Spirits of the Lake
by SMNJ
Summary: In the second installment of the 'Arthur Returns Series', the strange trio (Arthur, Merlin, and Essie) dig deeper into the mystery of King Arthur's mysterious return. Whilst investigating a string of suspicious drownings, they discover the startling truth- can they trust each other? And what secrets lie hidden under the mask of old friends? To be updated every Tuesday.
1. Chapter 1

Merlin never thought this would happen. Of all the possible things in the world, this was at the end of his list.

He was sweaty and shaky and he couldn't look anyone in the eye. Arthur looked like he was about to crack, but Merlin couldn't utter a single word to him under the pressure.

"Are you ready?" asked Essie, a mad glint in her eyes, raising her inevitable weapon.

"Do it," he answered through gritted teeth, digging his nails into the wooden chair as he prepared himself for the ultimate sacrifice, screwing his eyes shut.

"Snip, snip, and snip!" she hollered, as her rusty scissors cut through his waist long pony tail.

"This is hilarious," laughed Arthur, finally cracking, as he picked up the ponytail on the ground by Merlin's feet, "this is the size of my arm! My friend- you waited for me, and I respect that, but you couldn't have gotten a haircut?"

Essie laughed along with Arthur as Merlin scowled at them.

"You two are bullies," he accused. This made them laugh harder.

"C'mon Artie, let's go play tug on a rope," Essie suggested, taking the pony tail from Arthur and twirling around her head, "wanna join us, Granny?"

"I'll pass," said Merlin as he ran his fingers through his newly-cropped hair, "I don't like associating myself with dung heads."

"One thousand years, and your insults remain the same," said Arthur, raising an eyebrow in good humour.

"The sentiment remains," sighed Merlin, as he leaned back into his lounging chair, taking a deep breath of the outdoor air.

"Fine, c'mon you beefy loser," said Essie, punching Arthur's arm playfully as she ran out near the lake. Arthur joined her and very soon they were playing tug of war, which Arthur obviously won.

This turned into a game of catch when Essie snatched the hair from him and he ran after her to get it back. Merlin watched on, laughing at them. This isn't what he thought he'd be doing when Arthur came back.

Eventually Arthur called time-out and rejoined Merlin, leaning against the porch railing.

"Old Man," he teased. Merlin merely rolled his eyes again.

"Immature twits," he bit back, smiling his old goofy smile. This time Arthur rolled his eyes, as Essie arrived, panting because of all the exercise.

"Look on the bright side," she told Merlin as she took a long draught from the bottle of water balanced on the railing, "now you have your own individual look! The Gandalf thing wasn't working out anymore."

"Yeah, now you don't resemble a stereotypical druid either," added Arthur.

"My dear King, I technically _am _a Druid?" reminded Merlin.

"Yes, but now you don't _look_ like one."

Suddenly a shrill alarm blared, issuing from Essie's pocket.

"Crap," she sighed, reaching into the pocket of her sweater and pulling out an old Nokia mobile. She fiddled with it until it turned off.

"Shop duty," she huffed, before tossing the cut-off pony tail back to Arthur and marching into the house, calling, "reserve the game for later!"

As she disappeared through the back door, Arthur sat himself down next to Merlin on the only other cheap lounge chair. It creaked weakly.

"So," Arthur said, looking to Merlin's newly troubled expression that didn't owe completely to having his hair cut off. He always resumed this expression as soon as Essie would leave, "what have you been thinking?"

It had been two weeks since killing off the Elder Mother, and Essie was still very satisfied by it. Merlin, on the other hand, understood that there was a reason he tried to avoid conflict like that for such a long time, investigating possible situations and solving them and the such- because once you start again, you can't stop. It's an obsessive game that can get you killed.

Merlin sighed and answered, "The thought of the Old Religion resurfacing bothers me greatly. They had virtually died out throughout the years but… the Elder Mother is proof that they've returned to some extent."

Upon finding the symbol of Morgana le Fay (also known as the tree of life and the Old Religion sigil) carved into an Elder tree, as well as the Elder Mother boasting about powerful and restless spirits returning from the next world, Arthur and Merlin had been on the lookout for anything else that came from beyond the veil and also had a taste for blood, as they usually seem to. But they hadn't found anything yet.

Merlin turned to his satchel by his feet and pulled out several clippings of the last two week's news. He handed them to Arthur who examined them closely.

"Nothing too suspicious has been going on in Cameron specifically, but there's definitely unrest," he droned, closing his eyes and setting his forehead on his folded hands, "throughout all of Avalon, the people have grown uneasy- several reports reflect that."

"What's this one?" interjected Arthur, holding up one from a few days before. Merlin opened his eyes briefly to peer at it.

"A little boy has drowned," he replied , "his mother swears he could swim, but authorities are saying that as he was ten years old so he couldn't have been able fight something pulling him under."

Arthur skimmed it with the sky blue eyes Essie described to 'reflect who he really is.' Arthur didn't know what to say to that because quite honestly he had no idea what she meant by who he was.

"This didn't happen here specifically."

"No, it happened in a small pond just a little way closer to the mountains," murmured back Merlin, whose eyes were closed again, "I suspect it might be something other than what they predict."

"And _they_ think it's…?"

"Probably something trivial, like seaweed," muttered Merlin.

"But you don't think so?"

"Not in the slightest."

Arthur digested this as he stared back down at the article, when Essie burst out the house again from behind them, making him jump. Merlin barely moved.

"Be back in about…. Oh god, it's Monday," she sighed, before blowing a strand of her dark hair out of her face unveiling a darker expression, "which means five hours for the next five days, kill me now."

"If you hate it so much, why don't you just do something else?" suggested Merlin for probably the 101th time since they met.

"Because it's satisfying," came Essie's unchanging response, as she took a deep breath, and marched off to the little shack-like store that was rooted by the dock where her boat was parked.

"Can I accompany you?" called Arthur, who was bored and in need of something to do. He needed to be constantly moving or he was sure he'd go insane.

"Your funeral!" she hollered back over her shoulder without stopping. He picked himself up and jogged after her.

Merlin reached for the newspaper clipping that Arthur left behind and looked at it once more:

_GILLAN POND TRAGEDY by Mary Xhu_

_Austin Tyler, 10, meets a horrid end last Thursday on July 24__th__, when he drowned in Gillan Pond under the watch of his father, Fred Tyler. He was playing with his toys by the seemingly nonthreatening pond as his father worked nearby. _

_"__He was just playing," says Papa Tyler, 37, through a thick Cockney accent that suggests he has very recently migrated from the main land, "He was playing his violin by the pond on the docks- he loved to do that because his brothers are players as well."_

_His tone quite stoic for someone who had lost their son, the late Tyler's 34 year old mother, Dana Tyler, issued a much more fierce statement akin to a mother bear._

_"__He could swim," she shouted at me and my team from her porch as her two unnamed older sons held her back from smacking me upright with a pan, "he could swim and he was good at it! He was strong for a boy his age, he would cut wood! Can your son cut wood? Can he?!"_

_I'm quite sure that if I personally did have a son, he wouldn't have been playing by a pond virtually unsupervised._

_Authorities still dispute the cause of Austin's death, but have told us that it may have been because of prior asphyxiation. They haven't released any other details, however._

_I think all would agree with me when I say- the incident could have been easily diverted._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hullo. Sorry these two chapters are so short, I've been really sick and on top of that- writer's block. I ****_promise _****the next few chapters will be longer and far more interesting and action packed and the such. Do review! xx**

"So you work here?" said Arthur as he followed Essie through a creaky door into the shack.

"Yup," she answered curtly as she went to open the metal fence hanging from the ceiling that covered the window. She lifted it easily despite how heavy it looked and locked it into place, as light that poured in illuminated the musty shop.

It smelled like worms and bait (predictably), but Arthur could also smell a little bit of rose. It was cramped, though he was of considerably larger size than her. There were pails of various kinds of bait as well as a few replacement hooks and bobs in the corner by a tiny apron-sink.

"Gosh," muttered Essie, as she rummaged through a small pile of colorful papers, "they never let up."

"What is it?"

"Flyers for town," sighed Essie, "the council sends them monthly as they think it's a bit of a tourist attraction, the Lake. But no one collects them, people would rather actually be _in town. _No one really comes down here."

She didn't seem at all dismayed when she said this, but in fact looked a note happier.

"What sort of people come up here, those who do?" inquired Arthur as he looked around a bit more. He spotted a small amount of shirts similar to his, stuffed into a box in the far corner by the door, where a small frame was hung over it.

"Not a lot of people, mostly vendors," shrugged Essie, not looking to him as she fidgeted with a large metal box with strange knobs on it that was situated by the large window open to a quite spectacular view of the Lake.

Suddenly a loud strange sound made Arthur jump (which had been happening a lot lately). Essie gestured to the box.

"Sorry, it was the cash register," she giggled. Arthur looked over her shoulder. It had a few papers and a handful of coins inside it, sorted into little sections.

"Doesn't look like much," he pointed out. Essie scowled.

"How about you become our mascot, I'm sure we'll get more money then," she snapped, before closing it loudly, almost catching Arthur's fingers in between.

"So you just… sit here for a while, until someone buys something?" carried on Arthur, leaning against the grimy wall and staring out to the Lake. Essie had moved to the corner by the sink and was pulling on rubber gloves.

"No, I have to do maintenance around the Lake as well," she answered curtly, "make sure there isn't anything in there that shouldn't be (that's how I found your sword), take care of a few plants around the Lake, take care of animals-"

"You work with animals?" asked Arthur, a seed of hope jumping to his throat, "what sort of animals?"

"Not horses or dogs like you might think," she replied boredly, as she reached for a few pails and dropped them by Arthur on the vendor's table hanging out the window, beginning to sort the contents, "when I say 'take care' I mean make sure aliens don't invade."

"Aliens?" repeated a slightly disappointed Arthur, the word twisting his tongue as his nose scrunched at the foul smell of the bait.

"You know, animals that shouldn't be around the Lake 'cause they belong somewhere else. Sometimes I'll catch a larger animal like a coyote. Once there was a bear but luckily I didn't have to do anything because it was being hunted anyway, so it was taken care of. Well-"

She hesitated.

"Unlucky for the bear, I guess."

Arthur nodded slowly.

"I'm a bit of a ranger, you can say," she smiled, as she finished sorting quickly and peeled off her gloves. He smacked his arm with them which left a slimy stain as well as an even more disgusted expression on Arthur's face.

"Be right back, just got to get something," she muttered as she left through the open back door. Arthur merely continued to scrunch his nose at the smell, as well as the now numerous flies that were gathering around the different baits.

A few moments later, a yell issued from outside. Arthur hurried out and found Essie staring with blinding rage at the back wall of the store.

"What is-?"

"ANOTHER ONE?!" she exclaimed, dragging Arthur by the arm and pointing at it. On the walls in red paint that almost looked like blood were the words: _FROM BEYOND._

"I CANNOT BELIEVE- I'VE ISSUED A COMPLAINT AGAINST THESE- THESE- SONS OF-"

She was so angry she could hardly speak. She was simply seething, and Arthur was almost worried she would pass out from all the red that was now tinging her cheeks.

"What's going on?" came Merlin's voice from behind them. He had evidently heard the screaming.

"Look!" Essie continued to scream, "Look, Merlin! I can't believe those stupid _scumbags _have done graffiti on it _again!"_

"Okay, calm down, Es'," soothed Merlin meekly. She turned to him.

"Calm down?! CALM _DOWN?! Who do you think has to constantly wash this off?!"_

She let out one more yell of frustration before marching inside the store to grab some supplies to do exactly that.

Arthur continued to peer at the words.

"Strange message," he observed, "_From_ _beyond_?"

"It is odd," agreed Merlin, peering at it closely. He smelled it- definitely not paint. But not blood either. It smelt strongly like roses.

"It's dyed paste," he murmured to Arthur, who looked closely over his shoulder, "how very peculiar."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the word, then said, "Do they even-?"

"No, they don't use this anymore," Merlin murmured again, reaching out and touching his fingers to the paint. It was very cold.

"What does it _mean _though?" pressed Arthur.

"I'll tell you!" came Essie loud voice. They both jumped away from the wall, "whoever is doing this has one thing to bear in mind!"

She dropped the pail of water on the ground so hard some water sloshed over and almost spilled. She thrust a large sponge which already stained red into it.

"One more time," she warned with every rub on the paste that really wasn't coming off, "And I swearto theGodsalmighty_-"_

She turned to Merlin and Arthur with a wild expression so violent it contested Uther Pendragon himself.

"-I will _murder _if I catch the punk ass kids who are doing this,_" _she deemed in a voice that left no doubt in Arthur's mind she wasn't kidding.

Merlin gestured at Arthur to follow him into the store. Arthur agreed and they both left quietly and hastily leaving a muttering Essie rubbing furiously at the red paste.

"This isn't the first time this has happened," started Merlin as Arthur followed him into the store, leaning against the wall.

"Has this been happening anywhere else?" interrogated Arthur, feeling the familiar sense of authority he rarely got any more. It was hard to get when you hardly knew anything about the modern era.

"No, it hasn't," assured Merlin, wondering when this had all started.

"Does she have any enemies?"

Merlin scoffed.

"Enemies? She might not be all together pleasant to others, but no one would go through this much trouble. I mean, the paste would take a quite a lot of effort to make in itself, let alone coming out here and taking the trouble to write such meaningless things."

Arthur nodded slowly, though not completely trashing the idea. He barely knew anyone here, but he was used to the idea of sabotage and enemies and threats, as he _was _king of a kingdom that often felt rebellious.

"YOU GUYS HAD BETTER BE GETTING MORE WATER TO HELP ME."

**'Till next tuesday!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys! Sorry this is a day and a bit late, I've gone back to school and I already have a work load! I have a horrible feeling I might have to update this every ****_other _****Tuesday instead of ****_every_**** Tuesday instead, or just once a month... it breaks my heart to do so, but I really am quite busy with... life things.**

**Anyway, do enjoy, and tell what you think and review, it makes my day! Thanks! ~SMNJ**

That evening as they lulled inside the cabin, Essie was making another dinner (fish/rice) and Merlin was, per usual, sitting in his armchair, staring into space and obviously thinking hard. This thoughtful Merlin always scared Arthur the most.

Sitting across from Merlin, Arthur was doing quite a lot of thinking himself, as he ate some crisps Essie had thrown at his head earlier.

The case with the little boy who had drowned was really bothering him. His 'stoic' father especially. Who would be so calm after his son had died under his care? Arthur would never have been able to live with his own conscience. Theoretically, anyway…

"Merlin, I really think that story is worth following," he burst suddenly, steering his mind away from the 'theoretical' road.

"Which one?" Drawled Merlin, slowly coming back to earth from his reverie.

"The one with the boy, drowning."

Merlin took a moment to refocus his eyes and comprehend what Arthur was talking about.

"Oh, the ten-year-old, Austin Tyler," he remembered, "yes, it is quite odd… but I'm starting to think it may have really just been that. A tragedy."

Arthur noted how tonelessly Merlin was talking. The Merlin Arthur knew would have been the one attracting _his _attention to the situation, and demanding they go see about it, otherwise dragging Gaius with him. He had grown considerably colder over the years…

"Tragedy? What tragedy?" Interjected Essie from behind them, setting the lid on her pot and joining Arthur on the couch.

"Here," muttered Merlin, ruffling through his satchel and pulling out his little bundle of newspapers. Essie raised her eyebrows, but accepted the small clipping Merlin handed to her. Her large eyes skimmed over the page, and her expression turned into a wary one.

"I hate this reporter, this Mary Xhu," she grumbled, handing it to Arthur, "she always writes like everything is beneath her."

Arthur mentally agreed, as he quickly reread the small article and then handed it back to Merlin, who took it between his long fingers and regarded it with tired eyes.

"I think we should check it out as well," Essie trilled, obviously excited at the prospect of another adventure.

She had cooled down quite quickly after she had finished cleaning up the graffiti mess- one minute she was a kettle fit to burst and the second she was cool as a cucumber. Arthur thought this quite strange but didn't put it past her.

"I don't know, we might just be wasting our time," sighed Merlin, setting his fingers together and closing his eyes. Essie huffed.

"C'mon, Granddad! It's only a little past town, Arthur can see a bit more of the island!" she reasoned, "and it _is _my birthday in a bit over a week, it can be an outing for that."

Arthur turned to her in surprise.

"It's your name day?"

"Yes, it is, by your words," she smiled, looking to him with a buoyant expression, "I usually wouldn't give a damn, but because I'm turning 21 it's a bit of a bigger deal."

"You're coming of age, so it is," said Arthur, turning back to Merlin, "c'mon, Merlin, it'll be of amusement."

Merlin regarded them both for a few moments then agreed with a silent "fine."

"Yeah, up top!" bubbled Essie raising her hand. Arthur looked to her in confusion. She sighed.

"We've talked about this, just hit mine with your hand," she reminded him. Arthur slapped her hand hesitantly but the moment was gone.

Arthur excused himself to go to the bathroom- other than the fridge thing, the _toilets _were really amazing.

Essie leaned back into the white-grey couch and took a deep breath, exhaling loudly and reached to her side to the small table and took out a small blue book out of the drawer. Merlin recognized it immediately.

"Wait, that's the book about Arthur from the library," he said, amused. Essie smiled in the same good humour.

"Yeah, I've read it a couple of times, actually," she replied, touching the blue guilded cover fondly. _King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, _by the local teacher's great grandfather, Roger Green.

Merlin smiled briefly then returned to his thoughts.

"You're in it quite a lot," she said suddenly, making Merlin look up again. Her expression was earnest.

"Yes, I suppose so," stated Merlin. Arthur and his' destinies were, after all, intertwined.

"But it's so different from the real you!"

"It's bound to be inaccurate."

"Yes but… it's just, in this book, you're already old," she tried again, "you're old and wise and… psychic."

Merlin laughed.

"Well I was hardly any of those things, though I am old now." He obviously thought Essie was teasing him.

"In your stories," pressed Essie, "you told me about the Great Dragon- his name was-"

"Kilgarrah," finished Merlin, his tone now soft. He had hard feelings for the dragon after all these years.

"Right, and he was the wise, old, psychic one."

"Correct. So?"

"So… you said, before," said Essie slowly, "you said that witches and wizards or sorcerers or _whatever, _they would base their power on a certain element or symbol of power…"

"Yes…?"

"You… yours is the Dragon."

There was a long pregnant pause, as Merlin stared long and cold at Essie's face, which was a sheepish one, but still very earnest.

"Well… I was a dragon lord…" he replied slowly.

"Exactly," she urged, "so your symbol of power is the Dragon, and not just any dragon, but the Great Dragon Kilgarrah! It all makes sense!"

"No, Essie, it doesn't," he started, now even more wary but his tone was cold, "I haven't met the 'Great Dragon' or any other Dragon since Arthur died-"

"But think about it- when you met the Dragon, he was just over 1000 years old. Now, so are you! No, seriously, consider it for a second," continued Essie over Merlin, "he was wise, and he _knew _things, and most of all, he was _powerful! _And that's exactly what you've become!"

Merlin stopped trying to explain himself and merely tried to work out if he was offended or not. It was alright to be wise and all, but at what cost?

And powerful? Hardly- he had grown so used to not using magic he now had trouble casting a simple summoning charm. He realized suddenly he had turned into Gaius.

Merlin searched Essie's defiant face, then finally said, "You remember every single one of my stories, don't you?"

"Word for word," she answered instantly, beaming. Merlin smiled back, which Essie was happy to see was his goofy one Arthur made fun of so much.

"Aren't books at the library due after a week?" Remembered Merlin, his tone turning stern. Essie lifted her eyes guiltily, blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Well… yes- technically," she stammered, as a toilet flush issued from the bathroom above them.

"Essie," Merlin said in the same condescending tone, "you know you can't afford the fees-"

"No need," she grumbled, obviously disgruntled at his reminder, "I've told them I've lost it."

"You what?" Merlin was now smiling slightly, as the sound of s door opening and closing issued from the above floor.

"I've lost it," she said again, gripping the book harder and hugging it to her chest, "and I've paid for it."

"How much?"

There was a short pause when Essie finally admitted, "£11."

"Essie!"

"It was worth it though!" she protested, as Merlin began to laugh and Arthur re-entered the room. He fell next to Essie as Merlin continued to laugh, which had evidently made Essie burst into a fit of giggles as well. Arthur spotted the book.

"Hey!" he pointed at the blue book with his name on it, "you still have that?!"

Essie and Merlin continued to laugh.

The next morning, as the dark lake glimmered under the rising sun, it almost seemed like the world was immersed in bliss.

The war raging in Arthur's sleeping mind said otherwise.

He was running through a forest- the same forest he had played on the brink of as a child, with his disgraced sister, Morgana. However now he was alone, and it wasn't the same atmosphere he felt back in the day. Now it was dark and ominous.

As he sprinted through the thick trees and stinging branches, he could hear voices all around him. Voices of those he loved. Guinevere, his father, his knights, his people.

Their faces flew in and out of sight too, their forms fleeting in the distance and disappearing just before he got to them, like the end of a rainbow. He could hear them moaning. He could hear them calling his names. But it was never in love or rejoice, welcoming him back or leading him to a brighter place.

They were all voices of grief, and condoning betrayal.

Suddenly everything vanished and Arthur felt himself falling. All went dark. Arthur hated the dark- it was all he could see and feel when he felt himself drift away those so many years ago on the bank of the Lake, which felt like mere moments ago to him-

_It was bound to happen, you know._

Arthur could hear Merlin's voice, in his head… but it was different. Older, heavier.

His feet found hard ground and suddenly there he was- Merlin, his comrade.

Except it wasn't him. Somehow Arthur knew who the old white quivering man was. With a jolt he realised he recognized who it was, but it was as someone different from Merlin.

It was Emrys.

Hunched on a rock and leaning on an old cane, wearing dark drapes around him like a god. He was looking down at his hidden feet, but Arthur knew his eyes would be a stormy grey.

"What do you mean?" questioned Arthur desperately, almost as if every breath he took depended on it, "what was bound to happen?"

There was a long silence, before Emrys slowly raised his heavy head and looked Arthur square in the eye, sending chills down his spine and a burning fever in his chest he guessed was fear.

_It's a tragedy they're gone, _Emrys spoke in his head, _but it was bound to happen eventually._

"What was? What was bound to happen?"

_Loss._

Arthur's eyes flew open.

The pain that shot through his pupils was one welcoming bright light. He realised he had shot upright as he had woken up. He raised his heavy arms to rub his eyes.

He dropped his arms after some furious rubbing and took a deep breath, and finally opened his eyes completely.

He very suddenly realized that Essie was standing at the foot of his bed.

He leapt up and grabbed his sheets to his bare chest, shouting, "WHAT THE DEVIL, WOMAN?!"

Essie jumped back in fright as well, but her straight face remained, as she held up her hands.

"I was just putting back some of your clothes, they came out of the wash!"

"What?!"

"The wash!" she assured in a softer tone, as Arthur glared at her from his nest of twisted sheets.

He then asked her indignantly, "How long have you been there?"

She shuffled nervously, before she replied sheepishly, "about five minutes…"

Arthur sent her a dead but threatening stare and she hurried to explain.

"I was just coming in to put back your shirt and pants, and as I was leaving you started muttering and moaning… things," she continued, "and then you started to sort of yell…"

There was a dragged silence, as Arthur digested this with narrowed eyes.

It was with a different expression when Essie timidly added, "You know… Merlin may not be the same Merlin you know… but he is essentially the same person under it all."

There was another shot of silence before Arthur demanded roughly, "Why do you say that?"

Essie gulped and looked down at her shuffling feet, then muttered, "I- well- you were… I just had a strange… feeling you needed to hear it..."

She finished this thought and slowly raised her eyes to Arthur's icy ones. For a few moments Arthur had an even stranger feeling that somehow she knew _exactly _what he had dreamed.

Before he could ask, however, she said loudly, "Get up and get ready, we're leaving for Gillan Pond after breakfast."

With that she power-walked out the small room.

**Do tell me what you think! :) See you probably next Tuesday, I hope. Very much. Yeah.**


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, as the dark lake glimmered under the rising sun, it almost seemed like the world was immersed in bliss.

The war raging in Arthur's sleeping mind said otherwise.

He was running through a forest- the same forest he had played on the brink of as a child, with his disgraced sister, Morgana. However now he was alone, and it wasn't the same atmosphere he felt back in the day. Now it was dark and ominous.

As he sprinted through the thick trees and stinging branches, he could hear voices all around him. Voices of those he loved. Guinevere, his father, his knights, his people.

Their faces flew in and out of sight too, their forms fleeting in the distance and disappearing just before he got to them, like the end of a rainbow. He could hear them moaning. He could hear them calling his names. But it was never in love or rejoice, welcoming him back or leading him to a brighter place.

They were all voices of grief, and condoning betrayal.

Suddenly everything vanished and Arthur felt himself falling. All went dark. Arthur hated the dark- it was all he could see and feel when he felt himself drift away those so many years ago on the bank of the Lake, which felt like mere moments ago to him-

_It was bound to happen, you know._

Arthur could hear Merlin's voice, in his head... but it was different. Older, heavier.

Hs feet found hard ground and suddenly there he was- Merlin, his comrade.

Except it wasn't him. Somehow Arthur knew who the old white quivering man was. With a jolt he realised he recognized who it was, but it was as someone different from Merlin.

It was Emrys.

Hunched on a rock and leaning on an old cane, wearing dark drapes around him like a god. He was looking down at his hidden feet, but Arthur knew his eyes would be a stormy grey.

"What do you mean?" questioned Arthur desperately, almost as if every breath he took depended on it, "what was bound to happen?"

There was a long silence, before Emrys slowly raised his heavy head and looked Arthur square in the eye, sending chills down his spine and a burning fever in his chest he guessed was fear.

_It's a tragedy they're gone, _Emrys spoke in his head, _but it was bound to happen eventually._

"What was? What was bound to happen?"

_Loss._

Arthur's eyes flew open.

The pain that shot through his pupils was one welcoming bright light. He realised he had shot upright as he had woken up. He raised his heavy arms to rub his eyes.

He dropped his arms after some furious rubbing and took a deep breath, and finally opened his eyes completely.

He very suddenly realized that Essie was standing at the foot of his bed.

He leapt up and grabbed his sheets to his bare chest, shouting, "WHAT THE DEVIL, WOMAN?!"

Essie jumped back in fright as well, but her straight face remained, as she held up her hands.

"I was just putting back some of your clothes, they came out of the wash!"

"What?!"

"The wash!" she assured in a softer tone, as Arthur glared at her from his nest of twisted sheets.

He then asked her indignantly, "How long have you been there?"

She shuffled nervously, before she replied sheepishly, "about five minutes..."

Arthur sent her a dead but threatening stare and she hurried to explain.

"I was just coming in to put back your shirt and pants, and as I was leaving you started muttering and moaning... things," she continued, "and then you started to sort of yell..."

There was a dragged silence, as Arthur digested this with narrowed eyes.

It was with a different expression when Essie timidly added, "You know... Merlin may not be the same Merlin you know... but he is essentially the same person under it all."

There was another shot of silence before Arthur demanded roughly, "Why do you say that?"

Essie gulped and looked down at her shuffling feet, then muttered, "I- well- you were... I just had a strange... feeling you needed to hear it..."

She finished this thought and slowly raised her eyes to Arthur's icy ones. For a few moments Arthur had an even stranger feeling that somehow she knew _exactly _what he had dreamed.

Before he could ask, however, she said loudly, "Get up and get ready, we're leaving for Gillan Pond after breakfast."

With that she power-walked out the small room.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur and Essie were both acting odd and distracted around each other, Merlin noticed.

He had woken up later than usual. Last night was strangely dreamless- Merlin was used to waking up panting and clammy. But instead he woke up quite refreshed- which hadn't happened in about two centuries.

He woke up around 11 AM, which was relatively late for him. He skipped stairs coming down, still getting a small thrill whenever he hopped or ran or even walked without getting excruciating pain in his joints.

He walked in on Essie making a couple of sandwiches and packing bottles of water. She turned and smiled at him.

"Mornin', Granddad."

"Hullo, Es'."

She grabbed all three paper lunch bags and put them into a basket, which looked like was also holding a couple other choice articles of food, including poppy-seed cake. Merlin reached for it, but Essie slapped his hand lightly.

"Arthur is a bad influence on you," she scolded, as the loud buzz came off from the washing machine in the pantry. She flashed one more smile before going to go collect the clothes.

Merlin sighed and sat down at the table, and started to unpeel and chew on a slightly mushy banana (but he didn't mind). He noticed his satchel and reached for it, pulling out the article on Austin Tyler.

_'Austin Tyler, 10, meets a horrid end last Thursday on July 24th, when he drowned in Gillan Pond under the watch of his father, Fred Tyler. He was playing with his toys by the seemingly nonthreatening pond as his father worked nearby,' _reread Merlin under his breath.

He frowned. His father had done nothing to save his son, or it didn't seem so, anyway. If the pond was so non-threatening, then how did Fred Tyler not easily save his son? Was he so unconcerned for his child he didn't notice him dropping and thrashing in the lake as seaweed pulled him under...?

Essie rushed past him with a heap of clothes (including some pants which he flashed at Merlin and grinned mischievously as she walked by) and hopped upstairs to put them away before they ate breakfast and left.

Merlin returned his thoughts to the article.

Arthur was right, something was definitely off about this story. Details were missing.

Some minutes later, there was a shriek upstairs. A few moments after that, Essie reappeared, her face a burning red as she hurried out the back door leading outside for no apparent reason, her long ponytail swishing violently behind her.

A little while later, Arthur clambered down the stairs, also slightly pink in the face.

"Morning," Merlin said slowly, guessing something probably happened.

"Hello," he answered gruffly, and dropped next to Merlin at the table. He reached for his favourite snack- an apple. He was avoiding Merlin's eyes for some reason.

"What-?"

"Nothing, except that girl is a dufus-moron," he said completely seriously, taking a ferocious bite out of his apple. He was scowling.

Merlin figured something embarrassing had taken place- Arthur tended to lace words together whenever he had been humiliated in the slightest.

"But what-?"

"You'd think you'd get a little decency after coming back from the _dead_, you know?" he continued loudly, taking another bite and added between chews, "I mean, I _was _the king, after all! Even that should go a long way!"

Merlin was at a loss for what to say, except one thing that always worked whenever Arthur was inherently annoyed at anything.

"That must be rough," he replied wisely, a biting tone of sarcasm that Arthur never noticed.

"Thank you, my friend," he said, patting Merlin's back and taking yet another huge bite of his apple. Merlin raised an eyebrow at the treatment.

Arthur spotted the article hanging from Merlin's long fingers.

"She said we were leaving after breakfast," he said slowly through slow chews, as he reached for the article and read it once over again. Merlin nodded in silence. Arthur's eyebrows came together.

"He can swim," he muttered, handing it back to his friend, avoiding his touch as he passed it on, "that's a bit of a sorry excuse."

"It is," Merlin agreed, aware of Arthur's discomfort.

There was a loud snap behind them, and they both turned to Essie walking in quickly avoiding their eyes.

"The stuff are ready, she said briskly, as she gathered a few more things, "we can leave when you're ready."

Merlin and Arthur both glanced at each other, but didn't answer her. She took the opportunity to plop next to them.

"I say we leave as soon as possible," she said almost defensively.

"I agree," said Merlin, sighing and instead choosing to ignore whatever awkwardness was taking place. Nothing was his fault, which was all he needed to know, "I'm ready to go. Arthur?"

Arthur merely nodded in return, his eyes unmoving from a spot on the wall across from him. Merlin got up for a start, and they both snapped out of reverie and followed suite.

The car was felt so stuffy that Arthur felt hell must have a similar stickiness to it. The weather was unconventionally sunny, and the forest's summer thrive wasn't helping in the slightest. It wasn't too different from wearing knight's armor and chain-mail, but Arthur had been hoping he wouldn't have to cope with that any more, now that modern clothes were much more practical (though admittedly, his own clothes weren't exactly the most rich of material. He had spotted a budding hole in one of the uncomfortable short sleeves- the food wasn't doing him any favors).

"We'll get you some more clothes on the way to Gillan," Essie told Arthur, as she attempted to start the engine of her extremely old and run down car, Christie, "there's a small thrift shop a little down the road north-east of Cameron."

Merlin nodded reassuringly in return, as Arthur obviously had no idea what a thrift store was. He shrugged to this but secretly he was excited for their little adventure. Arthur had only ventured past the lake three times- and one of the times was to kill a tree spirit. This was going to lengthen his outdated parameters.

They hopped into the car and they were off down the dusty path around the hill of a mountain they so amiably christened Twisty Trail. Trees guarded either side and provided some relief from the merciless sun.

"I know a small little corner we can stay at while we're there," put in Merlin as they drove through the green and past the small community. Essie looked relived they weren't right turning into it.

"Oh yeah, you lived in Winchester for a while, didn't you?" conversed Essie, as she tapped her fingers on the hot leather wheel. Arthur was, per usual, riding in the back. Essie had told him he needed to 'prove himself' before he could call shot gun. 'Plus Merlin is older, so there,' she had told him.

"I did, but more than just a little while," he replied in a monotone voice, "Winchester is where the castle was originally."

Arthur's attention heightened.

"What happened?" he asked sharply. He hadn't asked Merlin many details about what had happened for the past centuries, he could tell his old friend would be pained by memories. Essie, for a fact, thought it strange Merlin had neglected to tell him everything despite this.

"Well, after a while, people just started to disperse," he answered in the same flat tone, "people wanted to see more than just the confines of the safety of the walls. The poor started to revolt as well, against higher power... eventually the original Camelot descendants virtually disappeared. People who lived in what was left of the original town we called Camelot became mostly immigrants who decided to stay."

"Every one decides to stay," murmured Essie, staring into the far distance with hard eyes.

The greens started to vanish and the landscape turned a bit barer. The seemingly large island of Avalon wasn't much for crops, but there were small areas of grass where cows lazily lingered under the heat, flicking away the large mass of flies that buzzed around their brown and white ears.

This ride lasted for about ten minutes before Arthur demanded that they get out, the heat really getting to him. Merlin agreed, and Essie frankly had no complaints about stopping. She insisted the thrift store was just moments away and they would stop there for a drink and a bite from their poppy-seed cake.

Shortly after these very words, a small dusty plaza revealed itself from hiding behind the mirages that fooled even Merlin's steely eyes. It had a grubby diner, a small Laundromat, and as Essie had promised, a small thrift store. Merlin thought it strange that would have a Laundromat in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. Avalon had very cut off communities.

They clambered out of the car, squinting at the light. To be honest, Essie preferred rain to anything. She liked the familiar melancholy. Merlin sympathized with this.

They ambled across the wide parking lot that was really just an empty lot. The thrift shop was very small but the signs looked friendly and cheerful enough. Essie pushed open the door lightly, and a small tinkle issued as they all stepped into the strange-smelling room huddled together.

The walls were wallpapered a deep green with ornate gold design, though water damage was evident from near the ceiling. There were a few shelves holding old, sad looking toys and pots and books and other doohickeys- there were a couple rows of racks with worn out but otherwise surprisingly sensible clothes. Essie breathed in deeply and ended up coughing.

"Hi!" said a bright voice to their left. There was a tall boy with dark hair and malevolent gleam in his eyes. His smile was crooked and his voice was deep and strangely melodious. Essie smiled faintly.

"Welcome to Gillan's Value Shop," he greeted relatively cheerfully, "my name is Nickson, reminder that everything is an added 20% off if you have anything you want to donate!"

Essie nodded slowly before turning to Arthur and Merlin, a gentle blush creeping into her cheeks, "you guys check out the clothes, I'll just be looking at their pots."

Merlin nodded, though he half winked at Essie that made her blush even darker, then Arthur followed him to the clothes section. There were a few old flannel shirts that had holes in them Merlin suspected came from moths. There were also a few t shirts here and there with odd logos on them- one of them had a picture of a doll etched on it with the logo "Don't you wish you were me?" A small collection of pants was piled on a small shelf near the racks.

"Hey, look at this one," said Arthur, lifting an XXL women's blouse with bright blue dots on it. Merlin sniggered.

"That's for women," Merlin told him, trying to maintain a straight face. Arthur frowned.

"Really?" he sighed, looking at it himself.

"Yes."

"But it resembled my own clothes so much."

"Fashion has changed."

"For the worse, apparently," muttered Arthur, setting it back on the rack. Merlin smiled more widely and ushered him over.

"This is the men's section," he told him, gesturing. Arthur's eyebrows furrowed farther.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing at a pair studded leather boots. Merlin scoffed.

"Another example of fashion," he told him. Arthur smiled slightly and picked them up. He actually kind of liked them. Very macho.

Essie was in the corner looking at the old pots that she had no intention of buying- who knows where the pots had been, really. She might pick a small vase for flowers (she loved collecting those) and maybe a small basin for storage in the store, but they were here to buy clothes for Arthur and something told her he wasn't going to hold back- and they needed to save some money for a motel and food and such.

"Need any help?"

Essie jumped and whipped around- What was his name? Nickson. Nickson was right behind her and smiling mysteriously.

"I- er- well-"

"This vase is half off, if you're interested," he talked over her stammering, reaching past her to the shelf, his long fingers clasping around the thin neck of the vase she was looking at. As he drew his arm back, he gently touched her shoulder, which made her cheeks flush.

"It's about a decade old, but really good condition," he continued to say, handling it lightly. Essie wasn't really looking at the vase though.

"Great for decoration, and the neutral color goes with anything," he said, looking up to her. His eyes were green, and shimmered like water.

"Yeah," Essie managed.

"Say, you're not from around here, are you?" he asked casually.

"N- no, I live by the Lake, near Cameron," she answered quickly.

"The Lake," he repeated, "the Lake by Cameron."

Essie nodded slowly. His smile grew.

"So, who are those two?" he gestured to Arthur and Merlin, who were examining a pair of jeans, "Are they friends?"

Essie nodded slowly.

"A bit more than that," she said softly, still captivated by his eyes.

"...Do you mean to say you're- dating one of them?" he continued, raising an eyebrow. His voice was morose.

"I... wait, what? No!" she said quickly, snapping out of it, "No, of course not!"

"Oh, then... are they...?" he raised his other eye brow. Essie caught his drift.

"Oh, no," she answered, "no, I don't really- no."

"Right, well," he started, "What brings you all to Gillan?"

"We're here to- see relatives," Essie replied, deciding it was better not to share their whole intent, "Merlin- the one with the black hair- he used to live in Winchester."

"Ah, Winchester," he repeated, "Yes, many pit stop at Gillan on their way there."

"Right."

"Essie, what do you think of these?" called Merlin, showing her their small selection. There were three shirts, shorts, jeans, and a leather jacket that looked like it had been through the mill, but otherwise warm enough.

"Er, nice," approved Essie, "We'll be paying then."

She looked one more time at the thin vase and grabbed that as well, and followed Nickson to the counter. Merlin and Arthur both set their items on the counter, as Essie pulled out a small wad of cash.

"Alright, so this all together would be about 27 pounds," Nickson counted, punching into the old cash register, "and with the added 20% off discount, it'll be... €21.60."

"I- discount?" Essie stuttered, who was obviously wounded by the original high price, "but- but you said that's if we donate things."

"Yes, well," said Nickson leaning across the counter, "donating your number to me will suffice, I think."

Essie's eyes grew comically, Arthur's eyebrows raised and almost disappeared into his shaggy hair, and Merlin stifled a loud guffaw. Essie looked transfixed, then suddenly dropped her wad of cash and shot out the door. Merlin and Arthur were left in the after-shock.

There was an awkward silence, when Merlin said, "well- that couldn't have been better."


	6. Chapter 6

"What, why, how, _why?"_

Essie was still a deep red when after Merlin and Arthur had purchased the clothes with the money Essie had left behind, and gotten into the car. Essie had taken shelter inside Christie, and was now sitting slumped against the driving wheel, her forehead pressed to the horn which kept letting out loud beeps.

"Even I- who have no experience with modern 'flirting', found that hilarious," stated Arthur, who had nitched the front seat before Merlin (with a bit of force, of course).

"_Why?" _she continued to moan.

"Merlin, remember the girl in the peasant market?" shot Arthur suddenly, eyebrows still raised.

Merlin scratched his head, traces of his goofy smile still visible his face as he struggled to remember.

"Oh, the one you were hitting on when-"

"You pushed over that stand on top of us," continued Arthur, rolling his eyes dramatically. Essie was still moaning.

"You were misleading her any way," accused Merlin.

"Was not! I was just telling her of my exploits!"

"Arthur, you never slayed a chimaera before."

"She didn't know that."

"Yeah, because she was dim."

"What are you implying, you clumsy bas-?"

"Figure it out, dolop-head," teased Merlin, as Essie started to rhythmically banging her forehead on the wheel.

"Okay, okay, enough, we should be on our way," said Merlin after a little while of watching her do that, and leaned back into the back seat. It was actually quite roomy back here, he had no idea what Arthur was complaining about.

"Alright, alright, fine," murmured Essie, raising her head and attempting to start the car.

As they pulled out of the dusty parking lot, Essie's face still a bright shade of pink, Merlin started to plan their approach.

"I know some people down there," he started, "which means I can pull a few favors-"

"Is a motel discount one of them?" interrupted Essie, as Christie skidded a bit over the dry dirt- strange. It seemed like it hadn't rained there for ages.

Their drive lasted about ten more minutes, when they finally arrived at the heart of the small settlement called Gillan. It was a little higher in the mountains, nestled between two crooks in the steep plain. A small stream flowed right through the middle of it, a wood bridge connecting the two sides. It was very green, and the stream babbled pleasantly. As they drove down the narrow road between the small shops and offices (the houses were on the edge of the establishment), Arthur could spot the small pond where tragedy had struck, a little down the hill.

Eventually, Essie parked her car into a narrow lot by a small inn with a bar on its side. Merlin smiled, thinking of Gwaine. Arthur spotted his expression in the mirror above Essie's head and could sense the sad nostalgia. But he didn't say anything because Essie was still there- and his dream from last night kept cropping up every time he thought to talk to Merlin about pretty much anything.

They left the coughing vehicle as they entered from the back door, which led to a crummy room with a stubby man behind the counter that looked like he would be the rat leaving a sinking ship.

"Er, hi," said Essie awkwardly, obviously dreadful, "I want a room?"

"'F courze ye do," he said thickly, lifting and dropping a heavy and dusty book on the desk between them, which creaked feebly. He flipped through blank page after blank page until he landed near the beginning the book. Evidently business wasn't the best. The man didn't seem to care though.

Essie signed for one large room, when Arthur said, "hang on, we're not all sharing a room are we?"

Essie dulled his eyes at him.

"No, I'm getting three because I won the flippin' lottery," she retorted sarcastically. Merlin knew she got more sarcastic than usual to cover anything under the surface. She was obviously stressed about their whole trip.

"Li'zzen, if ye wan' three rooms-"

"You stay out of this," she snapped at the pudgy man, who looked affronted by her short temper.

"I don't want to share a room though- can't you and Merlin just share?" Arthur demanded. Merlin raised an eyebrow- he didn't remember Arthur being _this s_poiled.

"No, so put up and shut up," she said finally, turning away from him and trying to hand a wad of cash to the man subtly, who put it in his front pocket and handed her change in coins, which she scowled at.

Arthur was afraid of having another dream- it wasn't the first time it had happened, and the last thing he needed was Merlin giving him an unnerving stern stare with his electric eyes the morning after having a fit in his sleep. Not to mention he wouldn't feel the end of it from Essie, who was still sending him weird glances when she thought he wasn't looking. Arthur was always looking.

They trudged up to their room, which was smaller and dirtier than the 'lobby' downstairs. Essie thought she may have heard the scuttle of rats, but that didn't bother Merlin or Arthur as they were clearly used to it from their many adventures in the forest so very long ago.

Merlin examined the bed sheets. There were definitely going to be bed bugs.

"Alright, I'll have the bed," Arthur announced. That was the level of spoiled Merlin recognized.

"_Uh_, no," Essie intervened. She looked ready to fight, "that's not fair at all."

"What do you propose then?" asked Arthur sensibly, hands on his hips. He had already taken off his shirt and his new baggier and much more typical to himself shirt was slung over his shoulder.

"I say we play for it," Essie proposed, hands on her hips as well, looking Arthur head on. Arthur arched an eyebrow. Merlin just watched between them amusedly, his goofy smile returning to his face.

"Then I get to choose the game."

"NO, you'll choose something like arm wrestling!" she refused, "Merlin will choose."

They both looked to Merlin, whose eyes widened in surprise of being pulled into the ordeal.

"We go into Gillan," he said slowly, "and try to find out more about this little mystery of ours. Anyone who can find the most information, whether that's updates, or lore, or general information about the Tyler family... they will get the bed."

Essie and Arthur exchanged glances, then they both nodded.

"Fine."

"Got it."

There was a short silence as they conceived plans. Arthur pulled on his shirt and slipped into some jeans. Well, tried to anyway. It was mostly struggle.

They lolled about as they settled into the room, establishing their little corners for their stuff in their backpacks. Essie arranged toothbrushes, and Merlin said he'd go to the lobby to ask the owner of the hotel about the city and where to go, the such.

This left Essie and Arthur in a mutual dilemma.

When Essie had returned from her vigorous cleaning of the washroom and found herself alone with Arthur, she realized that the awkwardness of their morning still lingered between them. They had used Merlin as an excuse to not think about it, but that had disappeared with his leaving.

And now the socially inadequate Essie was left with the bold and courageous King Arthur whom she had worshipped for her whole adult life.

And it was awkward as hell.

Arthur sat on the bed, his arms rested on his knees as he rummaged through the bedside table, in which he found the bible. He opened and flipped through the pages.

"So," Essie tried foolishly, trying to fill the tense space with rambling words, "How are you- er- fitting in?"

Arthur raised his head from the reading and glared at her. She was shuffling uncomfortably.

"How have I been doing?"

Essie had just stopped glowing red but it was slowly creeping to her cheeks again.

"Yeah, I mean- yes," she gulped, "just... how are you doing?"

The question was redundant.

"I'm... alright," he said slowly, picking his words carefully.

Essie straightened up from her unpacking and moved over to sit on the window sill. She regarded him critically, knowing full well that 'I'm alright' meant so much more.

"What do you mean?" she asked wisely.

Arthur sighed and raised his head even more to stretch his neck. She was like a child.

She set so much store in exaggerated stories, from Merlin and that ridiculous book she had brought along with them, which was now next to the bible he had set down on the bedside table. What he didn't know was that Essie was humbled by him. Arthur was more than a noble knight and great king. He was so much more complex.

Arthur regarded her, then said, "I have no need to tell you."

She blushed harder than after her encounter in the store, but he didn't care. Arthur didn't trust her yet, no matter what Merlin said. All they had in common was Merlin- in fact, Arthur was starting to doubt that too. The Merlin she knew wasn't the Merlin he had known.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"What?"

Her outburst had made him jump.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry about the people you lost," she said slightly sheepishly but she had the same radiance as this morning. An alarming surety for whatever hunch she had about his behaviour was correct.

"Listen," she continued to ramble, "I might not completely get you, and I know that you're not... completely used to everything but- but just know you're not alone."

Arthur was in stunned silence, and broke his mannish composure for one moment to say, "...how did you know?"

It was a general question, but she sure as hell didn't take it that way. Her smile was sad when she answered, "Because if anyone knows what it is to be alone, it's me. You don't have to be."

The telephone rang suddenly, but Essie seemed prepared because she immediately hopped off the sill and picked it up, brutally ending their momentary sharing. Arthur was immensely relieved.

"Yeah," Essie spoke into the phone, "Yeah, I get it, alright... who? Merlin, who is it? Okay, okay, we're coming."

She hung up and turned to Arthur, and said, "Merlin says that we should get going, plus there's someone we should meet."

"Who?"

"I don't know, he won't tell me. But one thing's for sure," her grin turned crooked, and a gleam shone from her large eyes, "the game is on."


	7. Chapter 7

"You have got to be kidding me."

Arthur again privately agreed with Essie as he stared long and hard at their visitor, whom was leaning so deliberately on the counter. He honestly had no idea who the person was, but she still made him feel uncomfortable, and the hotel owner didn't seem to be too pleased either.

"Arthur, Essie," greeted Merlin, "meet Mary Xhu."

"Miss Xhu," returned Arthur politely, nodding his head. Essie just continued to glare.

Mary Xhu was a plump, big-boned woman, a wide grin set in place as her dark eyes travelled up and down Arthur's new outfit. She was wearing a bright red pencil skirt and a ruffly blouse, which she had unceremoniously shoved into skirt to create obvious rumples. Her makeup was exaggerated to bring out non-existent cheekbones and pale blue eyelids, her long claw-like nails which were painted a delicate deep green drumming the counter softly.

"Hello there," she said smoothly, her voice almost as low as a raspy whisper, "So nice to meet you."

"Likewise," growled Essie. Xhu turned her colored eyes to her.

"Miss Xhu here was just telling me about her recent news story, the one about Austin Tyler," said Merlin casually.

"Yes, it was very tragic," she said in the same velvety voice, her eyes fixed on Essie's defiant expression.

"That's not how you wrote it," Essie retorted.

"I'm a journalist," she replied without flinching at her explosive manner, "nothing is ever how we write it."

There was a short pause as Arthur noticed her reptilian handbag and bright red suit case, as well as her clutch which she seemed to have just snapped close.

"Are you leaving?" he asked.

"Yes, this story has run its course," she said, her eyes sliding back to Arthur, "my interest has run out and, therefore, so has the interest of my devoted readers."

"Where are you planning on going?" ventured on Merlin. She looked back down at him, since her high stiletto heels topped even Arthur's height.

"Winchester," she answered, "something far more interesting has cropped up."

There was a loud sigh from the man behind the counter, and everyone turned to look at him.

"Something always does," he muttered morosely, ignoring the attention and continuing to light a cigarette. Arthur almost felt sorry for him.

"Strange town, Gillan," Xhu continued to say, ignoring the manager, "so small and seemingly uneventful... but chock full of dirty little secrets."

Merlin raised a black eyebrow.

"How so?"

She turned to look at him once more, her thin, penciled eyes now as widened incredulously.

"It is always the little towns that have the good stories," she hawked without shame, "God knows Avalon is a blessing to a writer. It's like a gold mine of things to expose and profit from."

Now they all raised an eyebrow. The manager simply got up and disappeared behind a curtain leading to the EMPLOYEES ONLY room.

"A little boy drowning in a lake is just a profit to you?" clarified Essie, her tone incredulous as Xhu's initial expression.

"Sympathy and blame," Xhu responded coolly, as she pulled out some authentic leather gloves from her hand bag, slipping them on, "paradoxal, yes, but best friends. The public loves doing that; being their own paradox. Now I must get going. 'Revoir."

She turned to leave before Merlin added, "Can't you give us the unpublished details then? If the story is over?"

She halted in her staggering walk and turned slowly to the three ganglers, who were now all standing next to each other forming something like a brick wall.

"My darlings, that would be betrayal of the confidentiality of my sources!" she told them shrilly, her tone simpering.

"What sources?" demanded Arthur, back in King Mode, "don't you just get information from interviews and anonymous tip-offs?"

Merlin had explained most of the general process of journalists, as there had never been anything like it back in their own time. Arthur had stored any information he could pick up like a safe keeping precious, cursed jewels.

"Oh dear," she tutted, looking Arthur up and down with her narrow eyes, "so naive for such a... big man."

Arthur looked confused, but before he could say anything, Essie jumped in and raised pointedly, "You said the case has had its run, so it's over. That contract of confidentiality is gone now."

Xhu considered this for a moment, then smiled mechanically, as her plump drooping face which so resembled a bulldog sniffed out the scent of telling a page-turning story. Her grin contorted into a ghoulish expression as she considered the delight of ravishingly spilling the details of a scandalous affair.

"Yes, I suppose so," she giggled. Merlin winced- the sound was just wrong coming from such a colored old lady.

"Alright, then sit down your rears as I'm about to spill like Niagara Falls," she said, the first trace of emotion now drooping from her thin words, as she ushered them to the connecting door. The emotion was malevolence.

They followed her into the dingy bar that had reminded Merlin so much of Gwaine. It was musty and gloomy, illuminated only by red canvas lamps hanging over the bar. A young man with dreadlocks was wiping a dusty glass, and two teens were drinking at the end of the table as they cast dark glances at the newcomers, hiding their glasses.

"Let me lay down a couple of facts," she started, as she slipped off her gloves again and snapped her fingers at the bartender for a couple of beers, "my sources include people very high up the street chain, and everything I tell you is quite literally word on the street. You will not relay to anyone that I am 'the street.' Understood?"

The triad nodded silently as they took their seats in the high chairs. The bartender nodded to them, and gave them each dusty lukewarm beers. He didn't look directly at Xhu when he handed her hers, who was trying very hard to flutter her eyelashes at him. He retreated immediately to cleaning musty glasses.

"It all started back in Cameron," she started dramatically, her thin eyes glittering, "I got a call from one of my readers, talking about a tragedy which had struck here in Gillan. I tend to get calls like this all the time, and they are often silly things a snooty neighbor eavesdropped- but this wasn't the case."

She took a swig of her beer, foam sticking around her thin pencil drawn lips. She licked it off, staring at Arthur seductively. Arthur shifted in his seat, and Merlin scoffed.

"Who was the tip off?" asked Essie pointedly. Xhu's gleaming eyes shifted to her hardened expression.

"The contract may be over, but I'm not betraying any names, my dear," she said patronizingly, "the reason my readers love me is because they know they can trust me."

This time, Essie scoffed. Xhu narrowed her eyes to slits.

"As you were saying..." urged Arthur. Xhu smiled.

"I was told over the telephone that a tragedy had struck Gillan. A little boy had drowned in the pond behind his house. This didn't interest me at first, as people die every day, and it's usually children who aren't cared for- quite unfortunate, though it may seem, it wasn't anything new.

"I was about to hang up, but something my tip off told me caught my attention."

"And what was that?" asked Merlin softly.

Xhu grinned maliciously, and leaned forward, her blouse revealing her large chest. The three both tried to look directly at her gruesome face as they leaned in as well. Xhu stared right into Merlin's gray blue eyes.

"This isn't the first time someone has disappeared around that lake."


	8. Chapter 8

Essie leaned back again, huffing at the anti-climax.

"You mean more than one person drowned in that lake?" repeated Merlin, leaning back a bit. His fists clenched and unclenched.

"Yes," whispered Xhu, her eyes unmoving from Merlin's face, "but they were all odd as well."

"Odd how?" pressed Merlin. Essie took a sip of her beer, and grimaced at the dusty bitterness. Arthur seemed to have already finished his.

"No one ever sees the drowning happen," continued Xhu, "no one actually ever sees anyone die. There's this whole stigma around it, around that pond. People think that there may be something wrong, something lurking in its depths – something that pulls down its victims."

"Ah," droned Essie, looking away and concealing a grin as she took another sip of her gross beer. She didn't even like beer.

"What is this 'something', exactly?" queried Arthur perilously, ignoring Essie.

"Well, I wouldn't know, I'm hardly an expert," Xhu smirked, "but it certainly caught my attention. It convinced me enough to make a small trip here and do some of my own investigating."

"There was no mention of any lore in your article," said Merlin, his eyebrow raising.

"Well, I hardly needed to, once I got here. The Tyler family is enough of a monster on its own."

"What do you mean?" demanded Essie, crossing her arms. She always played the disbeliever, but she could feel tingles of anticipation in her gut.

"I mean this town is full of dirt, but the Tyler family definitely takes the crown."

She smiled mysteriously and took another generous swig of her beer. She smacked her lips again and exhaled. The triad waited silently for her to continue her story.

"I got here and was, to my surprise, completely unwelcome," she proceeded, "their mother was atrocious, the brothers were defensive, and the father wouldn't even show his face. One member of the family, however, caught my attention."

"Which one?" ventured Merlin.

"The brother. The brother who was playing with poor little Austin, the one who had tried to save him, apparently."

"Apparently?"

"Yes, apparently. There was _something _about him that really irked _and_ intrigued me. As always, I followed my gut feelings; my instincts are always right.

"I tried to talk to him. His behaviour was most odd, and distant. The whole family have these trademark green eyes, but his were bluer, and sadder. He was perturbed, I figured. Grieving. He was playing with Austin, after all, when he had drowned. He was, I'd venture, the last person to ever see him alive."

Xhu took another swig of beer as her eyes travelled t the hanging lights over the bar, envisioning her experience like a movie in her head.

"I asked him a couple of questions. How he felt about his brother, how his family was reacting. Oddly, he didn't even talk about Austin. Instead he just kept repeating 'song, pretty song,' over and over. I suspect he's completely lost touch with reality."

"Song?' repeated Arthur. The three exchanged a doubtful look. Did this mean some sort of spirit had lured Austin into a trap, like a siren?

But what would a siren be doing in a small pond in the middle of literally nowhere?

"Yes, 'nice pretty song', he kept saying. I gave up eventually, and I tried talking to his parents. They were no help. Dad was barely there, and void of all feeling. Mum was just screaming over and over that Austin knew how to swim. So what, it didn't help him in his last moments, so there's no point repeating it!"

Following these harsh words, Xhu drained her beer before dropping a couple of coins by her glass and getting up. Arthur, Merlin, and Essie also hopped off of their high chairs, eager to get out of the dingy bar.

"Must get going – my team can be so impatient."

"Tell us more about Frank Tyler, the father," inquired Merlin, wiping off the grime on his wrist from leaning against the counter.

"Oh, he wasn't like his eldest son," replied Xhu, waving him off, as she continued strutting towards the narrow door at the back of the unlit bar, "in shock, I suppose. Didn't utter a word, just grunted a couple of times, maybe nodded or shook his head to some of my questions. All his complete sentences consisted of him just telling me Austin was playing violin or something or the other, I don't even know."

She laughed as she flapped her hands at the insignificance of his comments. Arthur, however, pursed his lips. The strange company stepped out the bar, blinking at the sudden brightness as they tried to fit Xhu's plump cases out the door. They were in a small alley behind the motel. Mary Xhu continued on her way to the main road, dragging her vibrant bags behind her

"I wouldn't stay here too long, if I were you!" she hollered over her shoulder, as she teetered up the uneven road, "the fact of the matter is that once in a blue moon, a little town like this will be struck with tragedy- they cling to it for as long as they can, then move on; you might as well move on as well!"

She turned around the corner and was gone. The three turned to each other.

"Forget the dad, it seems like he's just trying to feel less guilty by making excuses," discussed Essie, "The brother, though- last person to see him alive..."

"But 'pretty song', that definitely stuck out to me," pointed out Arthur, "is this some sort of siren in the pond? That wouldn't make any sense, sirens live in exotic seas and dark corners of the ocean."

"Well the Elder Mother suddenly cropping up after a thousand years wasn't exactly normal either. Maybe it is a siren, or something else, something more powerful. At least sirens have a specific victim and agenda. This one drowned a _child. _A child who could swim," ended Merlin softly, repeating the infamous words of the child's mother. It's all she would say.

"Wait, why would something more powerful be hiding in a little lake and be drowning innocent children?" pondered Essie.

"Maybe it's weak, like the Elder Mother was, remember? She started off with killing children," suggested Arthur heavily. The other two were silent.

"Well one thing is for sure, we have to see the Tyler family for ourselves," concluded Merlin, "I say we see them tomorrow, it's getting dark soon. We can retreat back to the room and think up another plan for now."

Essie and Arthur nodded at this, before they all turned to the main road as well, opting to go back to their room through the lobby instead of the bar.

"Other people drowned there, Xhu said," piped up Essie as they ambled, "I reckon we should find out more about that as well. I saw a stack of old newspapers in the lobby, I can check them out."

"Okay," agreed Merlin, "I might take a walk, talk to a couple of people in town."

"I'll return to the bar, after washing up a bit," suggested Arthur, "I might talk to the bartender, he must hear a lot."

"I'd think so," grinned Merlin, his eyes twinkling. Essie huffed.

"The bed is still up for bid though, isn't it," she reminded them, her eyes sliding to Arthur beside her.

"Of course," Arthur returned with a bite in his tone, "I am sure I will going to sleep comfortably tonight."

"We'll see about that, Artie," Essie bit back, as they reached the lobby door and slipped inside, Merlin snickering behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi guys! New chapter!**

**I just went back and realised that one of the chapters were missing, so there's a whole other chapter that was missing for quite a while. No worries, I've fixed that, so that makes things MUCH less confusing. It was from chapter five onward, so if you want to go see that and clear things up again, I'd recommend reading that. Just a recommendation.**

**Thank you so much, and SO sorry for the confusion.**

**Enjoy!**

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Merlin's mind was amongst the few clouds above as he walked down the narrow dust road of Gillan. He pondered not only the mystery on hand or the odd Tyler family, but also his friends, his history, himself. He did this whenever he was left alone, which was horridly unfair to himself, as Essie had told him time and time again. He had moved on, he _liked_ to think, but his heart refused to jilt.

Arthur's return bothered him. It made him feel guilty to feel so, as he had long awaited his friend to come back. It was what he existed for, he knew. But now that Arthur was back, he felt the itching sensation of something creeping up from behind him, the foreboding shadow of many troubles to come. There was a reason his King had come back, and he knew it- what was left of 'Camelot' was in serious trouble.

He guessed it might be the veil between the living and dead ripping as he had come back – but why would the reason for Arthur coming back be because of his coming back? It was more like a cause and effect then the _reason_ why.

Merlin tried to focus on the task at hand.

He couldn't think of a single reason why a _siren_ would be haunting Gillan Pond. Arthur had suggested it being weak, but he knew of the sirens' power, and they weren't as powerful as the Elder Mother was – and they had no affiliation with the Old Religion, as he guessed was what was driving the return of these powerful and deadly beasts. Sirens kept to their own means and ends, and did not, as far as he knew, affiliate themselves in anyway with druids or the affairs of any other land dwellers. They never concerned themselves with humans and the like unless they were to be their dinner.

He contemplated this vacantly as he sauntered, leaving his long legs in full control of where he was going. He was therefore surprised when he finally raised his eyes and found himself somewhere familiar.

When he lived in Winchester before leaving in the last century, he had frequently come _here_ to escape the hustle and bustle of newly formed cities and the busy minds of people who had somehow evolved to only have busy schedules and no time. Different from what he remembered, this small glen he now found himself in, and had often occupied before, was now a dead end in between the nook of the short mountains upon which Gillan was nestled. Tall trees canopied the dead end of the dry road, shielding small shops scattered around the landscape. In the middle of this roundabout was a small mound in memory of fallen soldiers of World War II, since Gillan had been devastated by the staggering loss of nearly all their men who had never returned from war. It was a small town after all.

Something in particular caught his attention. A small book stand overshadowed by a cigarette shop stood under a large oak tree. It was spotted by a couple of paperbacks and tourism pamphlets, like what one would find in a train station, Merlin thought to himself. A young man with a navy cap was guarding the stand dutifully, staring at a small Nokia touchscreen and rubbing his stubbled chin.

Merlin stalked toward him, pretending to examine the books. They were battered and beat, but still obviously valuable. Some of the books were gilded and dated at least half a century. A particular book caught his attention – it had familiar blue edges and a yellow haired, bright eyed boy with a sword etched on the cover.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked the man suddenly. His eyes were still glued to his screen.

"Er, yes, actually," sighed Merlin, tearing his eyes away from a copy of Essie's infamous book, "Do you know the Tylers?"

The vendor looked up suddenly, dark eyes meeting steely grey-blue. He quirked an eyebrow.

"On what business, sir?" he asked in a thick Northern accent.

"I heard about their son. I have been looking to meet them."

He looked Merlin up and down, his eyebrows climbing his forehead until they nearly disappeared behind a mess of dark curls.

"Who're you?"

"My name is Merlin."

"Merlin?"

The man's tone was incredulous. Merlin grinned nervously, wondering at his somewhat disconcerted reaction.

"Merlin," the bookseller breathed, "not a very common name."

"No, I daresay it isn't," Merlin replied airily. The bookseller did seem about as familiar as the glen they both now occupied...

The young man stroked his chin again, looking Merlin up and down another time. He stared at his overcoat despite the warm weather, and his worn out galoshes.

"M' grandfather knew a Merlin," he said softly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. A Dr. Merlin. He told us th'stories."

"Us?"

"M' family," he responded, "parents, m' siblings."

"What sort of stories?"

"Stories of the war," he replied easily, setting his phone down and chewing his lip, "the Second Great War. Is Merlin your last name?"

"Yes," Merlin lied easily, "my own granddad was also in the war."

The man got up and pulled off his cap, "my name is Darren Furrow."

"Furrow," Merlin recalled. The name of a soldier. Merlin had miraculously saved him when he appeared on the shores of Avalon, barely dead and out of his mind. His name was all he could say, but after Merlin helped him he had managed to settle down in Gillan and start his life over. Young man Furrow, he remembered.

"My- my grandfather mentioned your granddad. Nice to meet you," Merlin held out a hand, but Darren didn't take it.

"What do you want with the Tylers?" he asked again.

"I heard about their son and I want to offer them my condolences in person," Merlin repeated. Darren scoffed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he chuckled darkly, "the Tylers are a weird bunch, and their grief ain't helpin' the case."

"How so?"

"Well there's their father for one thing," Darren told him, "always been a shifty bloke, y'know? Never came down here from his little shed unless he came to get a little package from the drug store by McKayla's. Always sent his sons down to do his work."

"And his sons, were they- odd?"

"Nah, they were just boys," Darren grinned, "bright young'uns, they are. Always ready to help out folks in the street. Talked to everyone."

"How many are they?"

"Five- well, four now," Darren shifted his feet, "poor kid. Y'never would have thought it. The kid was a happy one. Very talkative."

"The youngest, Austin?"

"Yeah. Talked to everyone, more so than his brothers. Funny little guy."

Merlin sighed, as they both respected the silence which followed.

"Can't think what Diana must be going through," Darren added, "poor woman. Losing your kid, and to drowning? Couldn't imagine it."

"How is she coping?"

"She isn't," Darren replied simply, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. Everyone seemed to smoke in this town, Merlin thought, as Darren pulled out an old lighter.

"Out of her mind a little," he muttered though clenched teeth, as he struggled to light the cigarette hanging from between his lips, "always shoutin' and making a big fuss. Yesterday she went to get groceries and ended up nearly getting kicked out of the place 'cause she was screeching at the cashier. Everyone knows what's going on with her though, so they just escorted her back home. Poor woman."

Merlin digested this information, hesitating whether it was wise to go over to visit at all. It was necessary, but then again... he wondered whether bringing Essie was a good idea. She could be insensitive sometimes, he thought, as he recalled their visit to Cashlin Vine's after the death of her boyfriend.

Arthur was better at the interrogation, and his presence would probably be reassuring. He usually was for victims of tragedy, which is why he was such a popular king.

"About their father –"

"Fred?"

"Yes, Fred – what does he do for a living?"

"Carpenter... made this stand in fact. He does good work," he answered, as smoke raised out of his nostrils like a dragon's.

"Alright... well," Merlin glanced up at the darkening sky, already stripped with purple and wispy deep blue. The North Star winked at him as it dwelled over the now setting sun.

"I'll just get going, then."

"Sure," Darren peered at Merlin, "Say, is your granddad still around?"

"He- he is," Merlin confirmed.

"Tell him thanks, if he's still in any state to hear it," Darren told him slowly, letting out another puff of smoke.

"Alright," Merlin said, "thank you."

"Later."

Merlin glanced once more at the blue book on the stand before turning to leave. He walked a couple strides before Darren called out, "they live next to Gillan pond- you just have to follow the brook up the mountain and you'll find'em."

Merlin turned on his heel and waved thanks, before continuing on his way. Follow the brook – sounded easy enough.

"That pond is a sad, sad pond," Essie remarked shrilly, setting down the numerous weathered newspapers on the bed. Hands on her hips, she paced the length of the small room as Merlin smirked bemusedly, setting the hotel key on the cabinet next to him and sitting next to the newspapers lying on the thin mattress. He had just returned from some more exploration of the town and a couple more talks with the inhabitants.

He shuffled through the newspapers as Essie continued to speak.

"So many people have drowned in that lake, you would think they would do something about it, but not a single person cares – and no one does maintenance so it's not like anyone's watching over to make sure people don't fool around."

"Where's Arthur?"

"Still in the bar," answered Essie shortly, still pacing, "there was this one woman, Cindy Wallows. She went for a swim two months ago and disappeared! Her body wasn't found."

"What's he still doing in the bar?"

"He's talking to the bartender!" replied Essie with impatience, swiveling around to sit on the window sill, her favorite spot in the room, "they thought it was odd though, that an experienced swimmer like her would perish in a pond. Several people in town thought it was a hoax that she would just drown, and guess who they accused?"

"Who?" returned Merlin vacantly, still shuffling through the papers.

"Fred! Austin Tyler's dad! Apparently he's a real shifty bloke," muttered Essie as she grabbed her pocket notebook and opened it to her notes which were scribbled inside.

"How come?"

"Oh, I don't know, he doesn't really come down to town and he barely ever talks," Essie retorted, "he doesn't talk so people don't like him – I call it _Small Town Syndrome_."

"Yeah... did Arthur tell you when he would be back?"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Granddad, he's a grown man! He can take care of himself," she sighed in exasperation, "I'm sure he can handle himself without you being on his back all the time."

Merlin pursed his lips at Essie's outburst, before saying, "Apparently Fred only ever came into town to get a package from the drugstore. I went down there to see what he got, and they said he got medication for something."

"Medication, huh?" Essie's eyes slid out of focus, did they say whether it was for something physical or psychological or what?"

"No, they wouldn't tell me," Merlin answered promptly, examining a particular news article, "something about customer confidence."

"Huh."

Essie peered at the concentrated Merlin, an unsettling feeling creeping into her gut. Something she had never felt in his presence before. Something like... unsurety.

Essie contemplated whether she should tell Merlin what she knew about Arthur. She wanted to tell him about the valiant prince's nightmares she knew he had, the fits he was having in his sleep. She wanted to tell Merlin about Arthur's slight distrust in him, about how perturbed he was of how much his former servant had changed. Everything she somehow _knew._

She shook her head. She was being childish, she chided to herself. Was she really going to plant bombs in their friendship when she knew that it was all that sustained the both of them?

"I think Arthur should be back up any time now," she said slowly, her eyes still unfocused, "he left about a half an hour ago."

She was a secondary character, she had known that from the beginning. Never had she ever been the protagonist in her life, not even before she came to Avalon and became the Lake's sole maintenance. She had always known she was the supporting character in life, and this she had accepted a long time ago. She couldn't get bitter about it now, not when it was important for her not to.

"Alright," Merlin muttered, before saying, "Essie, did you read this article?"

"Which one?"

She got up and hopped over to lean over the bed, glancing at the article Merlin was indicating.

"Yeah, it's Cindy Wallow's obituary, right?"

"Yes, but look at this," Merlin urged, "it read, 'Cindy was a caring woman of only 52, who was famous for her voice within the English opera community in the 60s. Leaving behind three children and five grandchildren, Cindy will be greatly missed.'"

"Yeah, so?"

"She was a singer."

"Yeah?"

"Austin was a violinist."

"Yes, and he could swim," Essie recited, "So?"

"She voluntarily went for a swim, right?"

"Every Thursday."

"They were musical swimmers," muttered Merlin, "so whatever this thing is, it prefers weak musical swimmers."

"Thing? So it isn't a siren?"

"I really doubt it. Sirens prey on sailors, but this was just a kid, and an old woman assuming it's this thing which pulled her under. Plus, sirens hunt in packs, or at least in two or three, they're never alone."

Essie frowned, and reasoned, "Who's to say this isn't more than one thing?"

"Because _someone _would have noticed a bunch of maidens singing in a pond. The Tyler family have been living there for about how long?"

"Xhu said three years."

"So they would have immediately noticed if some sirens suddenly appeared in a pond. Gillan Pond is not a sea, not even a lake, it's just the end of a mountain brook."

"Then what can this thing be?"

The conversation came to a full stop as they both stared and thought hard.

There was a sharp snap of a door, causing both of them to jump. Arthur had finally re-entered.

"Well?" demanded Essie, "Anything?"

"Something," he grumbled, sitting on the bed next to Merlin, "I talked to the bartender. Not a very sociable man, but he warmed up to me eventually."

"What did he say?"

"Well, first he complained about the dry weather," reported Arthur, "and then he talked politics."

"What about it?" pushed Merlin.

"Gillan is very disorganized– Winchester's local government is technically in charge but they hardly pay attention, so people just do whatever they want."

"Like what?"

"Crime," sighed Arthur, raising his hand and running it through his croppy hair. He had had his fair share of power struggles, and of crime being its result, "there's a very high amount of robbery here, things are always missing and presumed stolen."

"Well, from what I gather from the newspapers, the 'youth' here _are_ quite a handful," Essie said softly.

There was a short pause.

"Cindy Wallows and Austin Tyler are two people in the past two weeks alone who have drowned in that pond," inserted Merlin, "the Elder Mother said powerful beings were returning from the dead because Arthur had returned, correct?"

"Apparently."

"Okay, so that leaves another month before these two weeks for this thing to kill," Arthur assumed, "Any other suspicious drownings?"

He looked to Essie, still unused to called her by her odd name.

"Er, yeah, about two other people who are not Austin or Cindy."

"About?"

"Well, two other people have disappeared in the past month," explained Essie, "I say _about_ because there was another woman who _almost _died; wait –"

She rummaged through the newspapers between them and pulled out a small article from _Gillan's Gazette._

"'Lily Fisher, 19, was taking a stroll by Gillan's Pond when she was attacked, GG reports. A snake, alien to our island, attacked and bit her ankle, tearing away a bit of flesh,'" Essie gagged a bit, "There's a picture... anyway – 'Fisher was hurried to Dr. Stephen, local family doctor, and was successfully treated. This is lucky, as Fisher was also six months pregnant at the time.'"

"Okay, so this woman is attacked by a snake."

"Yeah, but since when do snakes live in Avalon? There hasn't been a record of it before," Essie said.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged glances.

"What?" pressed Essie.

"Snakes were common trouble in Camelot," explained Arthur with his fingertips pressed together, "and they were considered a symbol of evil."

"And by evil you mean, let me guess, the Old Religion?"

"Yes."

"Well," Essie exhaled sharply, "you guys sure did get up to more than you let on, eh?"

Merlin half smiled, then Arthur added, "The bartender mentioned this incident with Fisher, actually. I had asked him about the pond."

"What did he say?"

"Well, for one thing, no one likes it up there, like that reporter had told us," Arthur started.

"Oh, I had gotten that from quite a lot of people too. No one likes going up there alone, especially after the sun had set," raised Merlin.

"How come?"

"They say something haunts that pond; a spirit of some kind – A sad ghost who longs for his lost soul."

Arthur and Essie both raised their eyebrows. Essie turned to the window sill again and snatched up her notebook, riffling through her notes. Merlin continued to press for more.

"What did the bartender mention about the snake incident?"

"He said that it had bothered a lot of people, not just because it was a snake, but because of the injury it inflicted."

"How come?" raised Essie from her sill.

"The injury left a very odd scar. 'Not at all like what you think a snake bite would look like' he told me."

"What did it look like then?" asked Essie, as she sat back down between them.

"Did it look like a kind of scar human teeth would leave behind?" guessed Merlin as he leaned back.

Arthur nodded, and said, "He implied it."

"How'd you know?" inquired Essie.

Merlin swallowed, before saying, "well, a bite mark not being true to a creature's actual teeth? Usually a shape-shifter."

There was a long silence.

"A shape-shifter? That complicates things," Essie remarked, interrupting the pause and sighing.

"Indeed. We have a lot of work to do."

"It seems so," sighed Arthur, rubbing his eyes, before glancing at the analog clock on the wall, "It's getting late."

"We can set out to visit the Tylers tomorrow before noon," Merlin told Arthur, "and Essie, you need to do some research on the pond and local lore, anything useful."

Essie looked to Merlin indignantly.

"What? Why can't I come with you guys?"

"Well," Merlin tried awkwardly, trying to set the matter delicately, "It'll be less distressing for the Tylers, they are grieving after all, and it won't be too much help if we gang up on them as a trio – they hardly reacted well with Mary Xhu and her 'team'. Plus, you're way better at researching than we are; you can actually use computers."

Essie narrowed eyes, knowing full well this wasn't the true reason she was being barred from coming. She held back the lump in her throat as she whispered, "But I don't have a computer."

"I'm sure you can ask for one," injected Arthur. He didn't sympathize with her very much, as he was quite glad it would be just him and Merlin. Essie's presence was tiresome to him.

Essie got up from the bed, crossing her arms again as she looked out the window. She jutted out her chin out of habit, then turned back around and said, "Fine. I'll stay."

"Okay, then we'd better get some rest," concluded Arthur before getting up, "I'll just settle into bed."

"One moment," interjected Essie, raising a finger, "we agreed that whoever got more information would get the bed!"

"Yeah, and I clearly won," returned Arthur ruefully. Essie snorted.

"No you didn't, you just brought back reports on robbery and dry weather –!"

"– And the pond! That's more than you, you just brought a bunch of newspapers."

"Nu-uh, I said plenty before you came – Merlin decides," settled Essie. They both turned to him.

Merlin smirked as he pretended to think long and hard about it. He then very slyly concluded, "I think the person who rightfully deserves the bed... is myself."

"_What_?"

Arthur and Essie both gaped at him.

"You didn't say you were also _competing_!" trilled Essie, as Arthur looked on increasingly offended.

"I didn't say I wasn't. I clearly win," he tutted, grinning up at both of them.

They continued to gape at him as Merlin got up and turned to the large queen-sized paradise, and shook out the sheets Essie had personally cleaned. Essie narrowed her eyes at Merlin and shook her finger at him.

"You were planning this from the start!"

"Of course!" Merlin smiled goofily, but refused to budge. He was given the power of decision, after all.

"I –," Arthur seemed at a loss for words, before he finally exclaimed, "you are still so – so..."

"Cheeky?"

"Annoying," Arthur shook his head, concealing a grin. Perhaps Merlin hadn't changed every part of him as Arthur had thought.

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**Do review! Thank you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi guys! Sorry for the delay in this chapter, but my internet has been a real bitch this week. I'll still be posting a new chapter on Tuesday, as scheduled, so no worries. Enjoy!**

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Arthur had done a lot more than explore the bar. He had strolled into the next room and met the sallow manager of the motel, questions memorized like a hymn. He knew Merlin had already briefly talked to the miser, but knowing Merlin (or remembering him, anyways) he often neglected certain tasks when something more interesting cropped up, as it had in the form of Mary Xhu.

He had knocked on the welcome counter, and sure enough the stalky man appeared from behind the curtain labelled _EMPLOYEES ONLY, _holding a dirty bible and smoking what Arthur could only guess was another cigarette.

"Hello," Arthur greeted with confidence, "I'm in room 203 – I was wondering if I could just ask–"

"Your friend already 'as," puffed the manager, his bloodhound-like eyes sweeping over Arthur as he continued to smoke.

"I know, I just wanted to know – the Tylers, do you know them well?"

"Everyone does," he answered curtly.

"How well do _you _know them?" pressed Arthur.

"Well enough," he replied without elaboration. Arthur stared him down until he continued.

"I know his father better than anyone else," he continued, blowing smoke from the corner of his tight-lipped mouth, "we used to be neighbors."

"Neighbors? Where?"

The manager shrugged, looking down at the bible in his hand when he said, "before Gillan."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, and had then continued to interrogate the manager. Soon he discovered, though, that the man wasn't too fond of being pestered by customers, so Arthur changed his tactic. Instead, he switched to idle conversation about the town of Gillan, broadening the subject to general inhabitants of the village. To this, the manager was much more open. Eventually the subject fell to Lily Fisher, the pregnant woman who had been bitten by the snake near the pond.

He was suddenly very closed about the subject, obviously defensive of his, whom Arthur found out to be, adopted daughter. Fisher was walking with him, in fact, when the incident had taken place. And the bite it had left over?

"Disturbin'. Teeth marks unlike an animal or reptile of any sorts."

Arthur thought long and hard about this and other formalities that night, as he laid down on the hard floor of the motel. He was trying to fall asleep as peacefully and distractedly as possible, as he was worried about being attacked by nightmares again and, more importantly, Merlin finding out he was having fits in his sleep.

Essie though… _she _troubled him. How she knew exactly what his nightmares entailed, he had no idea. He could only guess that she had witnessed him before, and that he may have let words slip as he experienced the constant doubts in his mind in the form of night terrors. She was perceptive. Too perceptive. Perceptive enough to make him incredibly uncomfortable.

He turned and punched his flat pillow into shape, then tried again to put himself to sleep. He glanced at the open window, its lace curtains dancing in the light breeze. Essie was sleeping directly under it, her face turned like she had fallen asleep gazing outside. Next to her, leaning against the wall, was his sword Excalibur, glinting in the moonlight.

He fell asleep almost peacefully staring at his sword, a sigh escaping his lips. He felt his body floating…

Suddenly his body went rigid, and he felt the overwhelming sensation of falling. He couldn't jerk himself awake, and for another rare time, Arthur Pendragon was afraid.

He saw again the faces of those he had loved and lost, and was forced to listen to the accusatory screams of his people. He knew them well, and their names tasted salty on his tongue. Arthur was twisted in his sheets as he tried vainly to escape the dead.

Then he felt a warm gentle hand placed on his clammy forehead, and relief poured like a flood into his mind. His heart beat slowed down a little as he heard a soft voice telling him to sleep. Arthur smiled, thinking of his perished mother.

The night sailed on tranquilly, and Arthur was, for the first time in what he could remember, peaceful.

* * *

Essie was almost too frustrated to speak. She watched with crossed arms as Merlin and Arthur readied themselves to go meet the Tylers, as she sat and chewed angrily on a dry bagel. She had gotten up extra early, her inner alarm clock jerking her awake as if someone had splashed ice cold water on her face. She had then gotten up and fetched breakfast, knowing the boys would complain for food the second their eyes opened. She had glared at Merlin sleeping peacefully on the bed, then frowned at the king who looked like he had been knocked out onto the floor.

About two hours later, both of them had woken up to a pot of lukewarm coffee and half-melted butter on cardboard bagels. They ate it without complaining, Essie's glare hot on their backs.

"I still don't get why I can't come," she said for the hundredth time, as she scowled at Merlin's smile he had tried in vain to make her crack a smile as well. He always did that but it never worked.

"We have to get as much done as possible, and quickly," Merlin fibbed, "We go see the Tylers, and you do some more research. You're better at research."

Essie knew he was saying that to make her feel better, but it didn't work. She simply continued to scowl.

Arthur didn't say anything to her, except a curt nod and goodbye as they both left in a hurry, eager to get to the Tyler abode before they were intercepted by nosy neighbors. Essie didn't nod or say anything back, but instead stared at the closed door, breathing silently in an empty motel room.

It was like déjà vu.

She sighed as she got up and gathered her things, preparing to go on a quest to find a computer, or any other form of technology that may aid her in her research. She grabbed a small pouch of home-picked juicy berries she had hidden from the boys in spite, her notepad, a few newspapers, and some pens. She was about to reach for her blue Arthurian storybook, but she hesitated. She eventually decided it wasn't worth taking with her.

She left the room with her materials in a small satchel and a stick of gum in her mouth. She muttered a string of curse words as she struggled to lock the door behind her, and her curses simply grew louder when she dropped the rusty keys.

"Well, well, well."

Essie whipped around and nearly fell over when she bumped into someone. She looked up and saw a familiar face chuckling at her profuse apologies.

"If I knew I was going to run into you again I would have dressed better," came a fluid voice. Essie blushed darkly.

"N-Nickson?"

"From the thrift store, yes. Hi."

"Hi," Essie stuttered, straightening herself out and shaking his outstretched hand. His fingers lingered on hers as she pulled away shyly.

"What are you doing, lingering in Gillan? I thought you were on your way to Winchester?"

"Just a brief pit stop… we're just staying a bit longer for my birthday" she lied easily, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She pulled out the unchewed stick of gum as she drew back her hand, and dropped it in her satchel without him noticing.

"Oh, well, happy birthday!"

"Th-thanks."

"How old, if you don't mind me asking-?"

"No, not at all!"

There was a pause, and he raised his eyebrows waiting for her response before Essie sputtered, "21! I'm turning 21."

Essie felt the heat in her cheeks spread to the rest of her face as she chewed her lip. She cursed herself for not just chewing her gum. It would've been so suave.

"How about you? What are you doing in Gillan?"

"I live here," he replied obviously, "a little down the street, near the pond… I work at the pharmacy."

"Oh." Essie nodded, unsure of what else to say. He glanced down at her notepad which she was clutching so hard to her chest.

"What's that for?" he tried. Essie raised her eyebrows, and looked down at her weathered notepad.

"I – I sketch," she blurted out. She mentally kicked herself – she could've said anything else, and she went with drawing.

"Oh, cool, so do I. Can I see?"

"No," she said too quickly, before recovering and saying, "I don't like showing them to anyone."

"Understandable," he smiled, which Essie returned airily.

"I, er," she cleared her throat as she looked nervously to her feet, remembering herself, "I actually need – something, erm – do you know where I can find a computer?"

He exhaled sharply as he squinted, thinking hard. Essie found herself absent mindedly smiling again.

"There should be one in the motel employee room," he told her, scratching the back of his head, "I can give you access."

"You can?"

"Sure, I know Martin personally, so he shouldn't mind."

"Martin?"

"The motel manager."

"Oh."

He smirked and gestured for her to follow him. Abandoning the door, she followed him to the stairway, as he continued to try and make conversation.

"What do you want the computer for, anyway?"

Essie inhaled and answered, "just a bit of research about Gillan, you know."

"How come?"

"It's – interesting."

"Right, well," he shrugged as they skipped down the flight of stairs, "if you wanna know a good place to have a birthday, you bet is probably in Winchester. They have some restaurants, at least."

"Yeah, that's what I'm researching – venues," muttered Essie.

"What?"

"Nothing."

They exited the stairs and ended up in the lobby again, Martin the manager sitting behind the counter like he had never budged in years.

"Martin, old man," greeted Nickson.

"Hello, Nick," he returned gruffly, as he scribbled something down in a small notepad.

"I was wondering if we could borrow the computer – We just wanna search up a couple of things."

Martin looked up to his then peered at Essie, raising a heavy eyebrow.

"We won't be long."

Martin looked to Nickson, trusting his gleaming sea-blue eyes. He puffed a cloud of smoke, before nodding.

"Thank you."

He gestured for Essie to follow him again, and they both stepped behind the counter and into the _EMPLOYEES ONLY _room.

It was dark inside, and it smelled like old bananas. Essie spied numerous newspaper clippings pasted to the wall, mostly small headlines concerning the motel's history, and some about locals. They were yellow and peeling under the dim incandescent light.

"Here," ushered Nickson, pointing to the dinosaur computer on a small desk in the corner. It was bigger than her TV box at home, Essie remarked. She sat on the creaky chair and clicked the mouse a few times, bringing the computer screen to life. Blue light flooded the small room.

"Wow," she breathed, as Nickson leaned by her, brushing against her shoulder. Essie glared straight ahead, her mind on task and refusing to budge. She slid her mouse and waited for the internet to connect, before turning to Nickson and saying, "Thanks for helping me find a computer. I can handle myself now."

"I'm sure you can," he got back up, grinning unabashedly, "call me if you need anything else, alright?"

Essie blushed and looked away, before reminding him, "I don't have any means of calling you."

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled, "you ran away before we could exchange numbers, right?"

Essie didn't reply as she typed in her local library search engine into the taskbar.

"Here," he took one of her pens which she had placed next to the computer, and scribbled a string of numbers on the corner of a newspaper, "my offer still stands."

"Thanks," Essie mumbled, stalling her mouse before she could type in any keywords which had nothing to do with venues in Winchester. He left silently, and Essie's ears pricked with the familiar sensation of uneasiness sliding around in her stomach. She gulped as she typed in 'shapeshifter' and 'mythology' into the search bar. She always assumed anything like these cases that concerned Merlin and Arthur had something to do with myths.

Hundreds of results cropped up. Essie rubbed her chin and added the word 'water'. The search narrowed down a little, but not enough for her to find anything relevant. She thought long and hard again, and decided to erase 'mythology' and replace it with 'folklore.'

Sirens, of course, dominated the majority of the results. As she skimmed through the list of ebooks and online material Cameron's local library could offer, something caught her eye. One of the results was purple instead of blue. Suspicious, she brought up the result which must have been clicked on before.

The material was about German folklore, specifically concerning very small bodies of water. She scrolled through it idly, pulling out her notebook to make a few notes about water conditions suitable for different creatures. Turned out Gillan's little pond met all the specifications, except maybe one – an abundance of prey.

She continued to scroll when another word in the text stood out. She noticed it was also purple, the word being _nixe. _She clicked on it, but the internet was slow so it took forever to load.

"What the hell…?" she muttered to herself as she waited, curious as to why these sources had already been visited on this computer. She could only guess someone was researching whatever could be dwelling in the lake aside from her.

She had a sudden idea. She opened a new tab and pulled up the website history of the computer. She waited for it to load, and when it finally did, she gasped.

Nearly all the results had to do with not only the pond and possible dwellers, but also numerous residents of Gillan whose names she recognized from her perusal of old newspapers. She examined a couple of the ones she brought with her, losing Nickson's number as she flipped through the worn pages. Most of the names were here, and all the ones that were had been attacked by whatever was in that lake. Lily Fisher, Cindy Wallow, and, most recently, Austin Tyler.

She looked back at the web page that had finally loaded in the other tab. When she opened it up, all the answers were suddenly very clear.

She took a few hurried notes, excited to show Merlin and Arthur when they got back from what she selfishly hoped was a fruitless interrogation. She was scribbling the abundance of information when she heard a sudden loud thump of a door snapping open behind her.

She whipped around, heart in her throat. It was Martin the manager.

"You done in here?" he asked gruffly, glaring at her notes and messy newspapers. Essie was frozen, her eyes sliding to the cigarette tray by the computer, and the very recent ashes inside. Alarm bells started going off in her head, telling her to get the hell out.

"I – yes, I am," she said slowly, her eyes sliding back to his stalky figure. Only his bloodshot eyes were clearly visible in the low light. Essie gulped and gathered her things, taking care to close her web pages and quickly erasing her history as she left, careful not to leave any traces. She did this very quickly, as she had been very used to doing just this so long ago.

"Thanks for the computer, it was very… resourceful," she stammered, beginning to gather her papers. Martin shuffled nearer, looking over her shoulder. Essie noticed and hastily grabbed her open notebook. Martin raised a thick eyebrow.

"I'll just be –"

He suddenly grabbed her forearm, just around the scar from boating accident Merlin had saved her from. She winced, gripping her things to her chest.

"Whatever you were doing here, just know this," he muttered to her, his thick ungodly breath blowing directly into her face, "this town ain't a pixie. Everyone's got secrets, so keep our head down… or pay the consequences. Understood?"

Essie nodded, noting his sudden accent change. She narrowed her eyes, and shook him off.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said coolly, trying to play it like she wasn't the least bit shaken up. She stalked out of the room, then proceeded to run as soon as she was out of his earshot. He stood in the dark room lit mostly by the blue computer screen alone, glaring at the seat she had vacated. She had left something behind.

He smiled to himself, snickering.

* * *

**Do review! Cheers.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi guys! Sorry this didn't come up on Tuesday like I promised, I got horribly sick. Hope you enjoy it now it's here though!**

* * *

"What is our plan, exactly? Do we have a plan?" asked Arthur, as they strolled by the brook like Furrow had instructed Merlin. He chuckled.

"It used to be me asking you that question, my liege," he grinned, looking over his shoulder. The path was narrow so they couldn't walk alongside one another.

Arthur guffawed, "I nearly always had an answer."

"Yes, you did. It was either an honest 'no', or a lie," he teased, looking up the hill. They could see the small dwelling, and a piece of the pond as well. Merlin felt like he had left something in the motel room. He figured it was just guilt for neglecting Essie, but he knew she would understand. She always did, after all.

"Okay, so we knock," tried Arthur, "introduce ourselves –"

"As who?" interjected Merlin, "you've seen how the people of this town react to outsiders, Arthur. Remember that we cannot go knocking around and introducing ourselves as the king and his manservant anymore. We have to be inconspicuous, if we can manage it."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed, not used to this policy, but he accepted it. It was sometimes hard to remember that he wasn't a king anymore.

"Alright, so we can be…" his mind was drawing up blanks. He still didn't know enough about this time era to think of anything that would make sense.

"Not authority, we know how people here feel about them," Merlin reminded him, "and not the press either, you read Xhu's article. Diana Tyler is hardly welcoming."

"They hate being pestered," remembered Arthur, "but they like casual conversation."

"Oh, yes, that makes perfect sense! 'Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler, we heard about your child dying. Fancy a cup of tea?'"

"Ha ha," Arthur mocked, "your sarcasm never fails to amuse me."

"I'd hazard a guess that one of their boys is going to answer the door," Merlin reasoned, still snickering, "if we can just as them to let us in as friends… I know enough people here based on before to introduce myself. You – stay silent."

Arthur rolled his eyes as they finally reached the cottage. Cottage wasn't a very suitable word – it was more of a large shack. Despite their father being a carpenter, it seemed to Merlin that he had neglected his own home completely. It was tall and crooked, leaning slightly to the left. Despite its height, it was obvious that there was no upstairs, except perhaps a small attic. They had no porch or even a fence, but instead an eroded pathway that also forked left towards the pond, which was only a couple yards behind the house. There was also an evil eye talisman with iron pieces dangling at the side of the rickety door, which was left slightly ajar.

Merlin came to it quietly as to not disturb them, Arthur directly behind him. He then knocked hesitantly. Not getting a reply, Arthur reached over Merlin's shoulder and rapped on the door more loudly. Merlin threw Arthur a half-willed glare before a young boy appeared next to the door.

The boy was tall and twiggy, about eleven years old, with a mess of wheat-colored shaggy hair piled atop his large head. His bright green eyes were narrow, which he squinted at the visitors without greeting, waiting for them to explain why they had landed on his doorstep.

"Hello," greeted Merlin, willing Arthur to be silent behind him, "My name is Ryss" - (Merlin decided a nickname from 'Emrys would do) - "I used to live down in Gillan."

The boy didn't answer as he peered at Arthur, whose presence Merlin couldn't figure was assuring or threatening.

"Whadaya want?" said the boy quietly, looking back up to Merlin.

"I just wanted to meet your mom and dad, and give them this," Merlin said, pulling out some cake Essie had made a while ago, and a small bouquet of flowers he magicked into his hand with a snap. Arthur raised his eyebrows at the magic, feeling a bit uneasy but otherwise glad Merlin had thought of a peace offering.

The boy squinted at the cake, obviously desiring it. Merlin offered a chunk of it, which the boy took and shoveled into his mouth. He looked at the visitors once more, before saying, "careful you don;t trip… and don't be loud."

He widened the door a bit more and then disappeared, which Merlin guessed was an open invitation inside.

The interior of the house was reflective of its exterior. Plain and extremely modest, Merlin couldn't help but think back at least two centuries by looking at the furnishings.

It was all made of the same material of wood, embellished by small cheap doilies and vases. There was a rough carpet strewn across the rickety floor, and two simple deep green sofas by a tiny fireplace, which was loaded with firewood. There was also an old cuckoo clock, which issued a loud booming tock with every movement of its second hand.

There was only one wide window, which looked to the pond. There was a thick curtain, however, which impeded the view. The curtain, Merlin figured, was the newest addition to the small rectangular room.

Arthur glanced up the stairs to his right, which was near the front door, wondering if Diana Tyler had hidden herself somewhere in the attic.

"I'll call Josh," said the boy, who had grabbed the rest for the cake which Merlin had handed him, ignoring the flowers.

"Josh?

"M'brother," he answered over his shoulder with a mouth full of cake, as he disappeared out another door across them, which must have led outside to the pond. Merlin plaed the flowers in a small vase by the sofa, and they both took a seat on a couch, which was hard and dusty. Arthur coughed.

Soon another boy of about fourteen entered from the back door. He was also much taller and skinnier, and his pale skin had a faint grey tinge.

"Whadaya want?" demanded the boy Arthur guessed must have been Josh, "George said you brought us food?"

Merlin reintroduced himself, and Arthur as Artie. He raised a hand to shake, but Josh didn't take it. He merely regarded them both coolly.

"Whadaya want?" he repeated. Arthur chipped in, ignoring Merlin's warning.

"We are just visiting some of our relatives here in Gillan, and we thought we would drop by."

"What, out of the goodness of your hearts?" he said, his eyes narrowing and crossing his thin arms. He wasn't buying it.

"Furrow told us about your youngest," Merlin interjected, hoping his bluntness would be made up for with a familiar name, "we're so sorry."

Luckily, the boy's stiff mouth softened as he remembered the tragedy that had passed. He didn't answer, but his eyes were glassy.

There was a short pause, when he finally whispered, "So you thought cake would make it better?"

Merlin sighed and said, "No. But we wanted to do something to show our support."

The boy remained still. Arthur felt the silence growing thicker.

"How's your mother?" he asked gently. The boy's eyes grew glassier.

"Not well. She's asleep, right now. She sleeps a lot, nowadays, so I have to take care of my brothers," he replied quietly, his voice quivering.

"Are you the oldest?"

"Nah, Josh is the oldest. He's in a real bad state as well, so I've taken over."

Merlin tried to be sensitive when he said, "what about your dad? Is he working in the shed?"

"Dad's always in the shed, even since before Austin drowned," Josh snapped.

Arthur deliberated whether he should, before moving forward and gripping the boy's shoulder and leveling himself with him. Josh didn't pull away, but he looked at Arthur defiantly, sick of being patronized and coddled. Arthur felt a rush of sympathy, relating deeply.

"My mother died when I was born," Arthur told him firmly, staring into Josh's green eyes which glittered with tears, "my father was never the same after that… I also – I also lost a sister."

Josh was still glaring at Arthur, but not in a mean way. Rather, his glare had become softer, showing the vulnerable boy of his age who had lost a little brother.

Merlin looked between them, a strong emotion taking hold of him. He felt a tugging in his gut, and he remembered Arthur as a king. This was the king.

Arthur's hand rested on Josh's shoulder, and he squeezed it firmly before telling him, "You are a strong young man. Let yourself be weak sometimes, for your own sake. Bottling it up does nothing."

Josh, for the first time in what he could remember, smiled, a tear falling own his cheek and staining his dirty shirt. The man's words hit him hard, and he guiltlessly thought that he had been more of a father figure to him within five minutes of meeting each other than his actual father had ever been in his entire lifetime.

Merlin stepped forward.

"Josh," he said softly, "can we see your older brother?"

Josh was still looking into Arthur's reassuring blue eyes, their calming effect taking over as he answered, "as long as we're quiet."

He turned and gestured for them to follow him, and he led them out the back door. They found themselves in a small glen, like the dead end Merlin had occupied before with Furrow. The grass was tall and uncut, spotted with dandelions, English daisies, and clovers. The ground was also very soft and mushy, which was a great contrast with the rest of the very dry town.

The glen ended at the sharp dip which became the infamous Gillan pond, which shimmered mischievously in the bright sunlight. It was canopied by a large weeping willow, which hung primarily over a small area of large rocks. Merlin guessed Fred Tyler was responsible for the unstable dock hugged by the rocks surrounding it.

"He's over there," Josh pointed. Merlin squinted through the harsh sunlight and spotted him. He was sitting hidden between to large boulders directly under the willow tree, one foot dipped in the water and the other hugged to his chest. He was staring into the depths of the pond, sitting so still it was easy to mistake him for a statue out of a grave yard.

"How has he been coping?" Arthur asked Josh. He shrugged.

"He's just been staring, mostly. Doesn't talk much anymore… none of us do," Josh added, looking over his shoulder as he continued to lead them down the path to the dock, "Austin… he used to do all the talking."

Another tear leaked out of the corner of his eye as he stepped aside, letting them pass in front of him to reach Tom.

"It's a waste of time, trying to talk to him," Josh blurted from behind them. He was looking at Arthur when he said it, "he only ever says the same thing over and over."

Arthur nodded in solidarity, as they walked up to the dock towards the boulder Tom was sitting on. He didn't seem to notice their presence, or rather he didn't care. They were timid, cautious of scaring him.

"Tom Tyler?" called Merlin carefully. The boy didn't flinch, even when Merlin repeated his name twice more. They were now standing directly behind him on the dock, his boulder a small space away. Merlin looked to Arthur for support. Arthur exhaled, then hopped onto the rock and crouched down, sitting beside the boy on the edge of the boulder. Tom still didn't move.

"Tom? Can you hear me?" asked Arthur. He felt like a physician of the damned.

"Yes," Tom answered, still looking ahead. Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin, who shrugged, eyes trained on the back of Tom's neck.

"Are you willing to talk with us?" Arthur tried. He didn't answer. Merlin also came and sat on the other side of the boy.

"Tom, look at me," he asked of him gently. Tom finally moved his head to face Merlin, his eyes still lost in some distance. His eyes were bright blue and heavily clouded. Merlin gripped his chin gently and moved his head to the light, examining him carefully.

"His mind has been touched," Merlin said softly.

"Touched?"

"Something like magic, but… not quite," Merlin murmured, "We can ask him questions, but just straight ones. I don't think he's able to answer otherwise."

Arthur's eyebrows now drew together. Merlin let go of the boy's chin, and Tom moved his head back into the exact same position it had been in, back to watching the soft waves of the lake. Merlin remarked how blue the pond was, despite the amount of algae and flora that lived in the shallow water. It was also roofed by far too many wide trees to reflect the sky.

"Tom, do you remember who you are?"

"I am Tom Tyler."

"Do you know how old you are?"

He remained quiet.

"Tom, do you remember how old you are?" Arthur repeated patiently.

"16."

"Okay," Arthur nodded, looking to Merlin as they both understood they had to say his name, "Tom, what is the last thing you remember?"

There was a short pause, before he finally said, "my mother."

"What do you remember about your mother, Tom?"

"She told me not to."

"Not to what, Tom? What did you mother tell you not to do?"

"Play by the pond," he answered slowly, his voice quavering a little. Arthur and Merlin exchanged glances.

"Tom… Tom, do you remember Austin?"

Tom gasped.

"Austin Tyler. My little brother. He is dead."

Merlin swallowed, then asked, "Do you remember how?"

There was short silence.

"Tom, do you remember how your little brother died?"

"I pulled him under."

"Wh-what did you say? Tom –"

"I pulled him under."

Arthur and Merlin held their stare.

"Tom, you drowned your little brother?"

"Yes."

They sat in a stunned silence, before Merlin reminded Arthur, "his mind has been addled with. Yes?"

Arthur nodded slowly, still staring at Tom in not disbelief, but something more like critical observance.

"Tom, can you tell me about the pretty song?" tried Arthur, remembering what Mary Xhu had told them in the pub.

"Song. He sang a pretty song."

"Who is 'he', Tom?"

"He… he is… unknown."

His answer reminded Merlin of computers. It was like he was, as Essie would have put it, programmed to repeat what he was told. It was like someone was typing what to answer from somewhere remote.

"Pretty song…" Tom drawled, swinging his foot which was dipped in the water. Merlin sighed.

"Well, we know that this thing is something like the Elder Mother, and I would hazard a guess that it used Austin and a bit of Tom to become stronger."

"Stronger?"

"To have its own form, I think. The Elder Mother would have done so as well, had we not stopped her. This has been going on for longer, I think."

"If it's a shape shifter, why would it need a human form?" inquired Arthur, leaning back and scratching his head. Tom was giggling to himself absentmindedly.

"Well, shape shifting is a lot of energy, you must understand this. Coming back to the living – assuming this thing had died and come back with you like the Elder Mother – it would have taken immense energy. Whatever this thing is, it would have to borrow energy from other living things in order to just survive. By the looks of it, Austin and Tom were enough to sustain it enough to get its own form."

"Okay, so this thing could still look like anything?"

"Father."

They both looked to Tom, who was shivering. It looked like he was choking, choking on his own words.

"Tom?"

"Father. Father!" he screamed, looking to Merlin. Merlin gripped the sides of his head, looking deeply into the boy's eyes again. They were even bluer than before, and his pupils had vanished.

Merlin muttered a couple of words under his breath, trying to fight the curse that was on the forsaken kid. He shivered even harder as Merlin's eyes gleamed with gold, before going completely slack.

"What did you do?" demanded Arthur, who was now holding the boy, letting Tom fall back into his lap. He was sweating profusely.

"I put him to sleep," muttered Merlin, looking around him. Josh had returned and was now staring at them, a question clearly drawn in his facial expression. Distrust slipped into his puny features.

"Tom was put into a trance and used as a tool… his saying 'father' was the first voluntary thing he has done since the death of his brother, I think."

Arthur huffed, then looked down at Tom.

"Will he be alright?" he questioned Merlin, evidently deeply concerned.

"Yes, but only as long as we are quick to capture whatever did this to him, so we can permanently release Tom from the spell.

Merlin's mind was racing, then remembered Essie.

"We should get back," he told Arthur quietly, as Josh started to make his way towards them, "tell Essie everything, and see if she has found anything. We cannot lose any more time."

"Oi! What's happened to –"

Tom stopped dead cold in his tracks as he stared at his unconscious brother, his bright blue eyes peaking through his dancing eyelids. Josh grew pale.

"What… what's going on?"

"Josh, you must listen to us," Merlin interjected quickly getting up, "your family is in grave danger from this pond. You must stay somewhere else."

"Yeah, and where do you suggest?" he responded meanly, "who are you?"

"I am Merlin, and this is Arthur," Merlin introduced honestly, "you have to trust us. You've noticed something has been going on lately. Trust your instincts, if not us."

Josh glared at Merlin with cold eyes, then back at his brother. He then glanced back at the house, where his brother was playing in front of and in which his mother must be sleeping.

"You can stay with Furrow, he will understand," suggested Merlin. Josh looked back to Merlin, then at Arthur, He gave a reassuring nod.

"Okay."

"Okay," Merlin nodded. It was now a race against time.

* * *

**Let me know what you thought!**


	12. Chapter 12

**(A/N) Hi! Again, I'm not dead.**

**Sorry about the hiatus, but the online course I have been taking was really time consuming! It's okay cause I got a 96% in the end! Congrats to me, haha.**

**I missed not writing, and I missed this time I think about not writing it anymore I feel so much regret cause there is SO MUCH IN STORE FOR THESE THREE and I couldn't leave that, no way.**

**Not to spoil or anything...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She was pacing when they finally arrived. Essie was going over her notes, but she felt increased anxiety as she considered what was ahead of them. She had almost forgotten her grudge against the two for leaving her behind in all this frenzy. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and stared out the window, waiting impatiently for their figures to appear around the corner.

In all her desperation she ended up not seeing them come in, and was startled when they finally walked through the rickety door, panting a little. Evidently they had something to share as well.

"I've figured out what this thing is," she blurted before they had a chance to open their mouths, "this is a nøken."

"A nøken?" repeated Merlin, as he sat on the foot of the bed and Arthur moved to his small bundle of things in the corner.

"Yes," Essie breathed, hurrying to sit next to Merlin and hand him her notes, "they're water spirits, kinda like sirens, but they also shape shift. They're mostly from German mythology, but it exists in English folklore too... they've been around for ages, possibly dating back to the Old Religion, based on the dates you two talk about. They can be pretty powerful."

"Powerful, how?" interjected Arthur, as he shuffled through his knapsack on the floor.

"Well, they can lure anyone and drown them, but they prefer the 'weak', like children, the elderly, and pregnant women," Essie explained, shrugging, "which explains why it targeted Tyler, Wallows, and Fisher – they all match these profiles. Nøkens will sing or play the viola, apparently. Not so sure about the viola part but –"

"Hang on, Austin was playing violin before he was taken," Merlin remembered from the news clipping, pulling it out of his pocket. He had kept it in his jacket pocket for the entire trip.

"Well, I guess the music attracted the nøken, so it drowned Austin," she reasoned, then rushed on, "anyway, they lure you and drown you. Their preferred form other than something humanoid is a horse or a snake."

"The snake explains the attack on Lily Fisher," put in Arthur gruffly, before raising his head from his rummaging and looking around the room, "have you seen Excalibur?"

Essie shook her head then turned back to Merlin again.

"Essie, we found out quite a lot as well," started Merlin before she could go off again, pushing her notebook back into her hands, "we talked to Austin Tyler's older brothers, including the one who had last seen him."

"And?"

"He's very clearly under the influence of magic. He was completely vacant and he had an unnatural blue glow in his eyes, which were different from his brothers' green ones. Also, he admitted to drowning Austin himself."

Essie bit her lip, then flipped through her notes and handed it back to Merlin, pointing, "that sort of makes sense. Nøkens, or a Neck in English, need a little bit of their prey to turn into them. It probably possessed his brother and used that body to… well."

Essie looked incredibly disheartened by this news, her gut-wrenching empathy evoking a painful ache in her chest.

"It would make sense, especially if this thing was too weak at the time to take its own form."

"They do draw power from their prey. Something about a life-source."

Merlin nodded gravely, in deep thought when Arthur exhaled sharply behind them. They both turned to him. He was standing next to the bed in front of the washroom, looking a bit frazzled.

"Essie," he said in a low measured voice, looking to her, "Where is my sword?"

Essie got up slowly and looked around blankly, sensing the barely concealed anger beginning to boil in Arthur's clenched fists.

"I don't know. Wasn't it by the window?" she tried.

"It was," answered Arthur with the same deep tone, "now it isn't. Do you know why?"

Merlin also got up, casting an eye around the room then back to Essie.

"I… no… no, I don't," she whispered, looking to Merlin, clearly uncomfortable. Merlin didn't respond, his eyes offering no sympathy.

Arthur exhaled slowly, then asked, "You left the room?"

"Yes."

"Did you lock the door?"

Essie's lips went white. She remembered how she was interrupted from her struggle to do so by Nickson. She had foolishly abandoned the door and followed him in their search for a computer. She hadn't finished locking it.

"You did not," Arthur knew, sinking to the bed, glaring at Essie, "you did not lock the door. And now, it seems, Excalibur has been stolen."

Essie felt a numbness spread throughout her body. Arthur was staring at her with such hatred that she wanted the floor to swallow her and her sheer stupidity right up.

"Do you realize how much that sword is worth, hm? The power it wields?" he demanded her. She flinched at his harsh tone. He got up again and was inching closer to her as she stood wide eyed. Merlin remembered his explosive temper, and stepped between them.

"Arthur, I realize you are upset –"

"Upset?" he seethed, "Merlin, do you realize that now, because of her, we have no means of killing this creature which is drowning innocent civilians?"

"That isn't true," gasped Essie defiantly, a glimmer of her fire glinting from behind her glassy eyes, "there are different ways of killing a Neck."

"With what?" sighed Merlin, also deeply disappointed in Essie's carelessness.

Essie felt another pang of hurt in her chest as she sensed this emoting from her friend, before answering, "You have to say their true name."

"True name?"

"Yes. They have a name they choose for themselves, since 'no one of God' can give it to them, 'cause they don't have a soul," she said quickly, staring ahead, "which explains the stigma around the pond about a sad ghost seeking a lost soul, like you said the people here think. We just have to find out its true name."

"Oh, yes, how simple!" chuckled Arthur from behind Merlin, his tone painfully sarcastic, "so much easier than just stabbing it!"

Essie attempted to defend herself.

"Listen, I didn't lose it on purpose!"

"And yet if you had just been more careful it would not have been lost in the first place!"

"Okay, okay," Merlin held a hand up to silence both of them, as they stood head to head, "right now, we just have to figure out how we are going to terminate the Neck. The sword is important, but not our first priority."

They backed off a bit, breathing heavily. Essie's eyes were very glassy, but she sat herself back onto the foot of the bed and flipped through her weathered notebook.

Arthur sat on the left side of the bed, staring at the wall. His last connection to his past was lost. Aside from a ringing in his ears, he felt nothing.

"I cannot imagine what the name if the Neck would be," inserted Merlin quietly, attempting to distract them back to the relevant path, "we do not know how old this particular neck may be, and we do not know what name it would have taken."

"Did the brother give any clues, other than admitting that he drowned Austin?" asked Essie quietly, determinedly flipping through her notebook.

"Well, he didn't seem to be speaking. It was like everything he said was scripted… except once."

"What did he say?"

"He just screamed 'father'," Merlin sighed, "then I had to put him into a deep sleep, because the Neck's magic – assuming it is the Neck's magic – was slowly killing him."

There was a short pause before Arthur added, "we never saw either one of their parents."

"You didn't?" Essie looked over her shoulder to peer at him. Arthur was still staring point blank at the wall.

"No," answered Merlin for him.

"That's odd. Where were they?" she turned back to Merlin.

"Well, Diana Tyler was asleep, according to Josh, one of the brothers. He also said that Fred Tyler was in his shed. He does not come out at all."

"Strange."

Essie's thick eyebrows were furrowed, as she glanced again at Arthur.

"I say we get down there as soon as possible," Merlin suggested, "the sun will set soon, so we must get there before it gets too dark, otherwise we have no hope of fighting a shape-shifter."

"How are we going to kill it?" muttered Arthur softly, "we do not know its name, and we don't have my sword."

Her brown eyes stinging a little bit, Essie replied gently, "I think I may have an answer to that, actually. The manager of the hotel? He acted a bit strangely as I was leaving… well, I say a bit."

Essie explained in a small voice how Martin had grabbed her hand and told her to keep her head down. She also noted how his accent had changed suddenly.

"Changed how?"

"He was suddenly, like, American or something."

"American?" Do you mean Armorica?" demanded Arthur, thinking back to his father's maps. She looked to him hesitantly, but he was determinedly looking only at Merlin.

"No, America. Across the ocean?"

Arthur drew blanks, but he didn't show it. Maybe his sword was in this _America._

"That is something," Merlin rubbed his chin, his fingers still unused to being clean-shaven, "but how will that help us figure out the name of this thing?"

Essie shrugged, then added, "I just thought that it was strange how a manager of a motel wold have a computer history full of information about a creature that fits these crimes so well, if you get me."

Merlin nodded, still stroking his chin, and said, "It seems we will have to pay Martin a short visit before we do anything else."

Essie nodded, gathering her things. Merlin turned to Arthur. He was still staring blankly at the wall, and had probably drifted out of the conversation with the grief over the only thing that connected him to who he once was.

Arthur felt hollow. He wasn't himself anymore. He had officially lost everything, he realized. Excalibur was lost, perhaps forever.

And it was all Essie's fault.

* * *

**(A/N) Please review! Love you all loads!**


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